Quotes About Youth

I told her that I'd done things in my youth that had placed me beyond the comfort and shelter of love, and so i had conducted my life in retreat.

But this would have been to ignore the young man of only twenty-five, who, for all his, by now, increasing and debilitating proneness to thought, still possessed, in spite of himself, a healthy animal nature. He falls in love, heavily, thickly, thankfully (is there any other way?). He is still--thank God--open to experience. He sees himself, indeed, as saved--returned to the sweet, palpable goodness of the world.

Seven actors have played Batman on the big screen, and if you can name all seven without reading any further, your youth has been wasted.

We're the new power, come to replace the old. Cameras in the head, children with microchips, spin doctors rewriting reality as it happens.

It's stupid, I know, but I care. All the things that meant so much when we were young. Under the blankets late at night, listening to long-distance radio. All those things lost now or broken. Can you remember? Can you remember that feeling? Perhaps I ought to go to a doctor.

As adults we're all balanced on the frail shoulders of the infants and tweens we once were, wobbling on their epaulets to reach the lofty vantage points of middle age, blinking above the tree line as we wonder if the physical effort was worth it for the cheerless panorama.

I suppose you think this is some big fight between youth and experience? Anarchy and authority? People like you always miss the point, Quentin Quire. It's all about in versus out.

It went okay. Kaye shifted her eyes to one side and shrugged. Rachel Browning tried to pull down my shorts. Did she succeed? Cross asked. Got them down to my curlies, Kaye said. The young men looked ready to appear shocked, should Cross be. Cross laughed. Jesus, Kaye. I never know what I'm going to hear from you. You drive my PR folks nuts.

All dreams are young, my host, my friend. All dreams belong to youth, whether they be nightmares or idylls.

It makes me feel young to be wrong so often.

At least fifty people are sitting or standing within sight of me. The oldest ones sit on their stoops beneath dented metal awnings. The middle-aged stand in little knots, the men sharing bottles wrapped in paper sacks, the women holding babies. I don't see any teenagers—it's as though they've been drafted for some special war—but several toddlers walk unsupervised through the parking lot. Three of them are naked.

Now it turns out he was having sex with his babysitter, and they're so pissed off they're about to pop. But their anger's not really about Kate, you know? It's about them. They feel betrayed. They put him up on a pedestal, and then he committed the crime of being human. So fuck him, right? Never mind that Kate was two weeks shy of eighteen, and on the make for exactly the kind of affair she had with Drew.

The kids (in the Jesus Movement) weren't singing for themselves. It seemed like they were singing TO Someone.

Today, 75 percent of young people who grew up in Christian homes and churches are now abandoning their faith as young adults. More than one-third of millennials say they are unaffiliated with any faith, up 10 percentage points since 2007.

their stories, tell their tales, pose for pictures, and shake their heads for the TV cameras. As one high school student told the reporter from the Today show, "Nothing much ever happens around here, so this is kind of fun. Sad, but fun at the same time.

The young man from Seabeck who'd been in and out of the county jail so often he thought he'd be able to leave some belongings behind for his next stretch of incarceration.

We need to figure out what's best," she said. "Do you think you can give us some time, maybe wait this out? You'll be eighteen in four years.

you know Mimi Garcia had a little brother?" he

Greta worked her way toward the back, skipping past racks and stacks of records marked with the year. One after another. It was as if she were going back in time, getting younger as she went and heading toward the girl she'd been back then. Young. Impressionable. A follower. The spark of memories made her shake her head. She'd come so far since then.

Maybe education is wasted on the young.

He loves it all anyway, as his first life as a teenager never allowed. Everything is different this time. On Sundays his mother's lengthy grace doesn't grate on him. This time he savors each one At high school he recalls who wrote poetry in Klingon, who sold dope, who was really gay and thought nobody knew. Friends, long forgotten by his late forties. As they pass by him again, he has a sad appreciation of how fleeting it all is.

Karl was seventeen when Joseph dwindled away, and somebody told him that was Hamlet's age when his father died too.

I was too young, then, to know that dead lovers are the toughest rivals.

His simple, unbeautiful words were the clearest expression of what all prisoners, and everyone else who lives long enough, know well—that suffering, of every kind, is always a matter of what we've lost. When we're young, we think that suffering is something that's done to us. When we get older—when the steel door slams shut, in one way or another—we know that real suffering is measured by what's taken away from us.