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One of the sadder things, I think,
Is how our birthdays slowly sink:
Presents and parties disappear,
The cards grow fewer year by year,
Till, when one reaches sixty-five,
How many care we're still alive?

— Philip Larkin Collected Poems (1988)

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More quotes by Philip Larkin

I never think of poetry or the poetry scene, only separate poems written by individuals.

The first day after a death, the new absence
Is always the same; we should be careful
Of each other, we should be kind
While there is still time.

Talking in bed ought to be easiest,
Lying together there goes back so far,
An emblem of two people being honest.

The Whitsun Weddings (1964)

I search myself for illusions like a monkey looking for fleas.

But superstition, like belief, must die,
And what remains when disbelief has gone?

The Less Deceived (1955)

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Philip Larkin (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.