“I feel like I’m finally whole. I’m five thousand years old,” he rasped. “But the day you found me in the woods, that’s when my life started.”

“I’m thirty-six years old, but I don’t feel like it. Some days I feel like I’m twenty-one, some days I feel like I’m pushing sixty.”

“The truth is, part of me is every age. I’m a three-year-old, I’m a five-year-old, I’m a thirty-seven-year-old, I’m a fifty-year-old. I’ve been through all of them, and I know what it’s like. I delight in being a child when it’s appropriate to be a child. I delight in being a wise old man when it’s appropriate to be a wise old man. Think of all I can be! I am every age, up to my own.”

“I’m in great shape. I’m 30 years old, and I feel like I’m 29.”

“He’s like my best friend. And I say that only because I have no real friends, and Cap’n is a great listener (he never interrupts when I’m talking—and I’m always the one doing all the talking). The day he does respond to me will probably be the best day of my life, because it means my walls are finally padded.”

“I’m thirty,” I said. “I’m five years too old to lie to myself and call it honor”