Via rjp in the comments:
The soul never grows old.
—Sigrid Undset
That's what the Berryman quote a couple of posts back points to, and as I noted there it's a datum that grows ever more real and significant to one with years. I've seen it as an observer, in my own parents and other people as they age—the way my father, for instance, at the age of 70 or more, would open a Christmas present with the single-minded gusto of a five-year-old. Now, with each passing year, it becomes more a fact of my own experience.
I've seen something from Victor Hugo (of whom I know very little) to similar effect but can't remember it clearly enough to include it here.
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