Middle age is when you've met so many people that every new person you meet reminds you of someone else.

Age becomes reality when you hear someone refer to that attractive young woman standing next to the woman in the green dress and you find that you're the one in the green dress.

I saw no African people in the printed and illustrated Sunday school lessons. I began to suspect at this early age that someone had distorted the image of my people. My long search for the true history of African people the world over began.

In old age we are like a batch of letters that someone has sent. We are no longer in the past we have arrived.