" Age was a demon, a haunting that slipped into the bones whispering weakness and frailty. It stole his muscles, his agility, and the quickness of his wit. It seemed a miserable reward for surviving, all things told, which was proof enough that life was a fool’s bargain. "

― Steven Erikson , The Wurms of Blearmouth (The Tales of Bauchelain and Korbal Broach, #5)