You know, I've got wrinkles on my forehead and smile lines, but

Hear the voice of Jennifer Aniston, who with both candor and grace declared: “You know, I’ve got wrinkles on my forehead and smile lines, but what’s wrong with that? I love to smile.” In these words, there is no lament over time’s passage, but instead a hymn of acceptance, a celebration of joy that leaves its mark upon the body. For hers is the wisdom that beauty is not diminished by age, but deepened by the evidence of a life lived fully—where laughter has carved its memories, and smiles have etched their history upon the face.

The origin of such truth lies in humanity’s eternal struggle with time. For as long as man has gazed upon his reflection, he has feared the slow fading of youth, the creases upon the brow, the silver in the hair. Yet the ancients knew that these signs were not curses, but crowns. In Greece, old age was revered, for it carried the dignity of wisdom; in Rome, the senate honored the lines upon the elders’ faces as proof of service to the republic. Aniston’s words, though modern, echo this timeless truth: that to bear wrinkles is to bear testimony of a journey through joy, sorrow, and endurance.

The smile lines, in particular, are sacred marks. They are not scars of battle nor wounds of despair, but gentle traces left by delight. Each line is a memory: a moment when the heart overflowed and could not be contained. To love these lines is to love the life that created them. This is why Aniston speaks not with regret, but with pride. She teaches that the pursuit of beauty is not to erase the signs of joy, but to embrace them, for they show the world that you have lived fully, and that you have chosen laughter over bitterness.

History gives us a great witness in Eleanor Roosevelt, who faced countless trials—personal loss, political struggle, and the weight of public duty. Yet those who met her remembered her not for her weariness, but for her warmth. Her face bore the smile lines of a woman who laughed often, even in hardship, and those lines became her strength. They revealed to the world that though sorrow had visited her, she had chosen joy. In this, she shared the same wisdom that Aniston now proclaims: that there is no shame in the traces left by a life lived with courage and a ready smile.

The ancients also told of Sarah in the Hebrew Scriptures, who laughed when told she would bear a child in old age. Her laughter became a symbol of life’s surprises and of faith renewed. Surely her face, too, bore the marks of that laughter, a visible testament that joy endures beyond years. Her story reminds us that the soul does not fade with age, but shines brighter through the cracks of time.

The lesson is clear: do not despise the wrinkles, the lines, the marks that come with age. They are not flaws but records, inscriptions written by life upon your very skin. Each one tells a story—of trials endured, of happiness shared, of love remembered. To erase them is to erase history; to embrace them is to embrace the truth of who you are.

Therefore, beloved, let this be your practice: live so fully that your face is carved with memories of joy. Do not hide from the passing of years, but welcome them, knowing they bring depth to your character. Choose each day to smile, to laugh, to love, and let the world see upon your countenance the testimony of your soul. For in the end, as Aniston so wisely says, there is nothing wrong with the lines that joy has left behind—indeed, they are the most beautiful adornments of all.