Quotes About Youth

It was considered at the time a striking proof of virtue in the young king that he was sorry for his father's death;but, as common subjects have that virtue too, sometimes, we will say no more about it.

He was a mere child in the world, but he didn't cry for the moon. He said to the world, 'Go your several ways in peace! Wear red coats, blue coats, lawn-sleeves, put pens behind your ears, wear aprons; go after glory, holiness, commerce, trade, any object you prefer; only - let Harold Skimpole live!

Die kleine Welt, in der das Leben von Kindern stattfindet, unabhängig davon, wer sie aufzieht, wird nichts so deutlich wahrgenommen und so deutlich gespürt wie Ungerechtigkeit. Die Ungerechtigkeit, die dem Kind widerfährt, mag nur eine Kleinigkeit sein, doch das Kind ist klein und seine Welt ist klein und sein Schaukelpferd ist im Verhältnis gesehen kaum kleiner als ein großes starkknochiges Jagdpferd.

in short, I should have liked, I do confess, to have had the lightest licence of a child, and yet to have been man enough to know its value. But

In der kleinen Welt, in der das Leben von Kindern stattfindet, unabhängig davon, wer sie aufzieht, wird nichts so deutlich wahrgenommen und so deutlich gespürt wie Ungerechtigkeit. Die Ungerechtigkeit, die dem Kind widerfährt, mag nur eine Kleinigkeit sein, doch das Kind ist klein und seine Welt ist klein und sein Schaukelpferd ist im Verhältnis gesehen kaum kleiner als ein großes starkknochiges Jagdpferd.

Dombey was about eight-and-forty years of age. Son about eight-and-forty minutes.

One of the best things in the world to be is a boy; it requires no experience, but needs some practice to be a good one.

The boy who expects every morning to open into a new world finds that today is like yesterday, but he believes tomorrow will be different.

For however I may in former days as a young man have liked the notice which the being in a great man's train secures one, now that I have a fixed character of my own, obscurity is far the most agreeable.

So of course time is necessary. But nevertheless damn painful, for it transforms all the pieces of your life - joy and sorrow, youth and age, love and hate, terror and bliss - from fire into smoke rising up the air and dissipating on a breeze.

We have enough youth, how about a fountain of smart?

You breathe in the glory of the new apple blossom and the girl heart rises up through all the world-mold that the years have gathered, and the lost thrill is back again.

Adults are obsolete children...

To live in joys that once have been, To put the cold world out of sight, And deck life's drear and barren scene With hues of rainbow light... Ye golden hours of life's young spring, Of innocence, of love and truth! Bright beyond all imagining, Thou fairy dream of youth! I'd give all wealth that years have piled, The slow result of life's decay, To be once more a little child For one bright summer day.

But some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.

Anyone who stops learning is old, whether this happens at 20 or at 80. Anyone who keeps on learning not only remains young, but becomes constantly more valuable, regardless of physical capacity.

I love my love with a B... because in our teens we stayed all night at each other's house on alternate Saturdays and read aloud until four in the morning Brontë's "Jane Eyre"... (but not without weeping)!

See'st thou our youth? and dost thou hear them plead? They long for knowledge, but no books to read Then found a Library, rich, choice and free. Sure all will join in such Philanthropy, And thus these youth much Knowledge will obtain And wiser be when future years they gain.

Life: The interval between the time your teeth are almost through and you are almost through with your teeth.

Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them. They must, they have no other models.

Voluptuous bloom and fragrance rare The summer to its rose may bring; Far sweeter to the wooing air The hidden violet of spring. Still, still that lovely ghost appears, Too fair, too pure, to bid depart; No riper love of later years Can steal its beauty from the heart.

Boys will be boys — and so will a lot of middle-aged men.

And there 's a nice youngster of excellent pith,— Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith.

We could never have loved the earth so well if we had had no childhood in it...