Postscript: Inspirational quotes versus reality

By Carrie Classon | Contributor | November 2024

Reputable Source

I have a problem with inspirational quotes.

“You are never too old to set a new goal or to dream another dream,” is attributed to C.S. Lewis. He didn’t say it.

“It is never too late to be what you might have been” is something George Eliot is supposed to have said. She never said that, either.

I could keep going, but it’s a safe bet that, if you read it on Facebook and it is attributed to Mother Teresa, Einstein or Keanu Reeves, they almost certainly did not say it.

For the longest time, I’d hop on Facebook and debunk a quote and, while it was satisfying to let folks know that Einstein was much too busy making discoveries to say the things he supposedly had said, and Mother Teresa did not spend her time writing poetry, I don’t think I made anyone any happier by pointing it out.

I thought it was important to set the record straight. But what I finally realized was that inspiration doesn’t inspire us because it comes from a reputable source. The real reason the quotes incorrectly attributed to George Eliot and C.S. Lewis troubled me was because I worried they were incorrect in more ways than one.

George Eliot died at 61. C.S. Lewis was dead at 64. Maybe they didn’t say it was never too late or you were never too old because, in fact, it sometimes is too late, and maybe I am too old. This is the sort of thing I worry about. I wonder if I might be showing up a little too late for some of my dreams.

I consider myself a very fortunate person. I’ve been able to do so many interesting things in my life, and I spend every day doing things I genuinely enjoy. But sometimes I look at the careers of people I admire, and realize they didn’t dither around as long as I did. They stuck with one thing from a very early age while here I am at 62 looking forward to a first novel that won’t be published until I’m 63, wondering (because how could I not?) if I didn’t get kind of a late jump on things.

Of course, none of us knows how much time we get. So many authors and artists I admire died very young. They made this huge splash and their ripples are still being felt but they didn’t live long. I like to imagine that, since I eat a lot of broccoli and don’t drink bourbon, I might squeeze out more than the expected number of years to write things and tell my stories. I like to think that the actuarial tables do not apply to me. But, of course, they do.

And because they do, I will do what I can with whatever time I have left.

I’ll do this because I believe with every fiber of my being that starting late is so much better than never starting at all. And I’ll do it because knowing that life is short (no matter how long it is) provides my greatest incentive to make this time – now – matter.

Honestly, I don’t care how much or how little I am remembered after I die. I’d just as soon make room for new people to tell their stories when the time comes. My goal is to make meaning of life now. To be useful today. Maybe even offer a little inspiration – even if I am not the most reputable source.

Till next time.

Postscript: Reflections on levitating cats, learned helplessness, and 10 years of marriage (April 2025)
Postscript: Reflections on circling friendships and my 100-year-old grandmother (March 2025)
Postscript: Reflections on my car wash dress and the fine tradition of friendly teasing (February 2025)
More Postscript coming soon!

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