Shakespeare stated that all the world is a stage, and all the men and women merely players. One man in his time plays many parts. The older age shifts along with spectacles on nose; his youthful clothes too wide for his shrunken frame; and his manly voice turning again toward childish treble. The last scene of all is second childishness and mere oblivion; without teeth, without eyes, without everything.

I say “No” to this. Yes, I feel old, so very old, and I know that I will leave this world with what I brought into it – nothing, not even teeth.

But wait.