“I spit on you, wretched old age—
old age that makes for ugliness.
The bodily image, so charming,
is trampled by old age.
Even those who live to a hundred
are headed—all—to an end in death,
which spares no one,
which tramples all.”
Origin URL: https://www.dhammatalks.org/suttas/SN/SN48_41.html