Quotes About Youth

Lads learn nothing nowadays, but how to recite poetry and play the fiddle.

I cannot cure myself of that most woeful of youth's follies-thinking that those who care about us will care for the things that mean much to us.

Apparently one grows more carnal and more mortal as one grows older. Only youth has a taste of immortality--

You had to take it out some way or other, your youth, or it ate you up. But what a ghastly thing, this youth! you felt as old as Methuselah, and yet the thing fizzed somehow, and didn't let you be comfortable. A mean sort of life! And no prospect!

They seemed so free, and were as a matter of fact so tangled and tied up, inside themselves. They seemed so dashing and unconventional, and were really so conventional, so, as it were, shut up indoors inside themselves. They looked like bold, tall young sloops, just slipping from the harbour, into the wide seas of life. And they were, as a matter of fact, two poor young rudderless lives, moving from one chain anchorage to another.

Besides- her voice suddenly flashed into anger and contempt, it is disgusting, bits of lads and girls courting. It is not courting, he cried. I don't know what else you call it. It's not! Do you think we spoon and do? We only talk.

For Connie had adopted the standard of the young: what there was in the moment was everything.

Because, after all, like so many modern men, he was finished almost before he had begun.

Her face was falling loose, but her eyes were calm, and there was something strong in her that made it seem she was not old; merely her wrinkles and loose cheeks were an anachronism.

Só a juventude conhece o sabor da imortalidade.

tell your girls, my son, that when they're running after you, they're not to come and ask your mother for you - tell them that - brazen baggages you meet at dancing classes

Usually he looked as if he saw things, was full of life, and warm; then his smile, like his mother's, came suddenly and was very lovable; and then, when there was any clog in his soul's quick running, his face went stupid and ugly. He was the sort of boy that becomes a clown and a lout as soon as he is not understood, or feels himself held cheap; and, again, is adorable at the first touch of warmth.

remote, virgin look of modern girls, sisters

But both had the remote, virgin look of modern girls, sisters of Artemis rather than of Hebe.

Her still face, with the mouth closed tight from suffering and disillusion and self-denial, and her nose the smallest bit on one side, and her blue eyes so young, quick, and warm, made his heart contract with love.

Paul felt life changing around him. The conditions of youth were gone.

Morel fell into a slow ruin. His body, which had been beautiful in movement and in being, shrank, did not seem to ripen with the years, but to get mean and rather despicable.

Avluya ç?karken, genç horoz öttü. C?l?zlaÅŸm??, k?s?k bir ses ç?kar?yordu ama kuÅŸun bu sesinde ac?dan kuvvetli bir ÅŸey vard?. YaÅŸamak gerekliliÄŸiydi bu, hatta dirimin zaferini ç???rmakt?.

A Prelude, 1907 Lessford's Rabbits, 1908

Oh yeah, and Spader was hanging out with a penguin -Bobby Pendragon

The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding—this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.

the journey at least gave leisure for reflection and self-examination; it changed the child of Emancipation to the youth with dawning self-consciousness, self-realization, self-respect. In those sombre forests of his striving his own soul rose before him, and he saw himself,—darkly as through a veil; and yet he saw in himself some faint revelation of his power, of his mission.

Golden apples are beautiful–I remember the lawless days of boyhood, when orchards in crimson and gold tempted me over fence and field–and, too, the merchant who has dethroned the planter is no despicable parvenu.

Not for me,—I shall die in my bonds,—but for fresh young souls who have not known the night and waken to the morning; a morning when men ask of the workman, not Is he white? but Can he work? When men ask artists, not Are they black? but Do they know?