I am forty-four. Not old, but old enough that friends and family are beginning to provide more occasions for funerals than for weddings. Old enough to love life for what it is. Old enough to see that it has meaning, even while seeing that it has less than I might wish.

David Schmidtz, ‘The Meanings of Life’, in Schmidtz (ed.), Robert Nozick, Cambridge, 2002, p. 199