Quotes About Adolescence

Megan Meade's Guide to the McGowan Boys Entry Nine Observation #1: Boys suck.

Megan Meade's Guide to the McGowan Boys Entry Eleven Observation #1: Boys are vulnerable. Even the ones that seem like total, complete jerks. Observation #2: Boys don't know when to call a truce already. Especially the ones that seem like total, complete jerks.

And I hated how most of us had grown up together, so that we never had a chance to really change. We could try, but people just kept seeing an earlier version of us. We each had our own narrative, our own character we were required to perform in the daily play that was "St. Joan's Academy for Girls,

Adolescence is a new birth, for the higher and more completely human traits are now born.

Stop saying that! You sound absurd, and I don't even think you mean it. Besides, I'd never marry you," I told him. "I'm sixteen, and you're a slut, and you can't stop saying preposterous things!" "True," he admitted. He kissed me on the lips and then I closed the door.

Since i couldn't remember the "real" first time i'd lost my virginity, this would have become my de facto first time. I wanted a better story then: I did it with this boy who i wasn't very into and who had mysterious Gaterade breath; in his room decorated with sports equipment; at least he was nice enough to provide condoms and get his ancient, horny dog to leave us along.

He was twelve, on the verge of being more man than boy. Every day, Sam became more of a mystery to Anna, even his smells, once so familiar, were a mystery, and there was a feeling of mourning to this. Yet, still Sam knew with certainty that his mother was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Old School by Tobias Wolff

Barely on the verge of adolescence, I was still a shy girl who preferred math homework to boys. I was neither daring nor particularly unhappy, but booze flipped a switch in me I hadn't even known was there.

When you become a teenager, you step onto a bridge. You may already be on it. The opposite shore is adulthood. Childhood lies behind. The bridge is made of wood. As you cross, it burns behind you

And he was the first crush I ever had that wasn't a scientist-- it's a different thing altogether. It made me a little peeved at myself, to be honest. Half the girls in Gotham City would have been happy just touching his jacket. I didn't want it to happen. But I'm human, all right? And for a while, we were better than kids with a crush. We were actually friends.

The thing of it was that the girls in my class who date boys do hardly anything else. Girls who I used to think were just boring I now think stupid beyond belief. I call them A-Girls and it is not a compliment.

I almost cried. But I didn't, because if you're in seventh grade and you cry while wearing a blue floral cape and yellow tights with white feathers on the butt, you just have to curl up and die somewhere in a dark alley.

It wasn't easy. In junior high, I was voted "most polite," and it took some time for me to realize that being perceived as a "nice guy" and being a faithful Christian don't always go hand in hand.

Maybe there was nothing to be done but wait out his adolescence, and hope that at the end of it all he might be a person who would want to talk to you.

high-reactive infants matured into more inhibited, introverted teenagers.

If by weirdo he meant that Nick didn't play grab-ass with the wannabes on the street corner, didn't yank at his crotch and call girls bitches, didn't wear oversized jerseys and pretend to be a gangsta all day, then yeah, Nick had to agree.

I think I'm going to have to live vicariously through my daughter's rebellion because I certainly never did go through adolescence.

When you're growing up, it takes a long time for you to realize that there's something different about you. On one level, you know there's something strange, but on another, yourself is the only thing you ever knew.

His one friend was the black boy, Pepeu, whom he held in thrall. Together they plucked finches alive, made certain experiments with the flesh of a watermelon, and shouted obscenities at the girls washing tripes in the river.    Once, they tried crucifying a cat, but it got away.

I suppose it has gone out of fashion and they are out spraying slogans on walls, sniffing glue or trying to get laid.

There's a taste in the air, sweet and vaguely antiseptic, that reminds him of his teenage years in these streets, and of a general state of longing, a hunger for life to begin that from this distance seems like happiness.

The term teenager had not long been invented, and it never occured to him that the separateness he felt, which was both painful and delicious, could be shared by anyone else.

She who showed weakness to teenagers would be picked on to death. True fact of life.