Quotes About Youth

A graceful and blessed old age must have three elements in it: a happy retrospect, a peaceful present, and an inspiring future. And old age cannot have either one of these three if the youth has been wasted and manhood has been misspent.

That is the best sermon, not which is a great pulpit effort, but which is helpful. If, young men, you have preached a sermon and some one comes up to you and says that was a great pulpit effort, hide your head in shame and go home and never write another like it.

It is not youth we want at Wheathedge, but spiritual life and earnestness. At least it is to be thought of. But as to salary-how we are to get a first class man at a third class salary puzzles me. I shall have to refer that to Mr. Wheaton. He is the financier of our church I believe.

Never say you are too old. You do not say it now, perhaps; but by and by, when the hair grows gray and the eyes grow dim and the young despair comes to curse the old age, you will say, "It is too late for me." Never too late! Never too old! How old are you--thirty, fifty, eighty? What is that in immortality? We are but children.

"In all this world there is nothing so beautiful as a happy child," says good old Santa Claus; and if he had his way the children would all be beautiful, for all would be happy.

Most of us can remember a time when a birthday -- especially if it was one's own -- brightened the world as if a second sun had risen.

They call upon us to supply American boys to do the job that Asian boys should do.

War is always the same. It is young men dying in the fullness of their promise. It is trying to kill a man that you do not even know well enough to hate. Therefore, to know war is to know that there is still madness in the world.

The instruction of inexperienced young men is one of life's unrivaled pleasures.

They have a saying among them: 'When whores are few, a boy will do.

They were dressed in leather like biker chicks. Serena had on platform boots, a tight-fitting motorcycle jacket, and a mini. Jimena wore studded ankle boots, a bareback leather halter top, and a hip-hugging matching skirt.

Tianna picked up her backpack and started out to the hallway with a confident swing in her hips. A sly smile crossed her face this time when she saw the guys stare. She walked down the unfamiliar hallways next to Corrine. The knot of anxiety was beginning to unravel, and she started to relax.

When they passed room 103, four guys dressed like skaters ran to the doorway and leaned outside. "Hey, Tianna," the first one shouted. "Looking fine," the second one added. "Thanks," she answered, and watched the other two admire her. "I can't believe the impression you've already made with the guys.

In the middle of the bobbing bodies, Vanessa moved sinuously against Toby. She wore a black leather skirt with a long slit up the side and a cropped leather jacket. Her midriff was bare and looked incredibly good with the gold chains that hung around her waist.

You'll look like a scary calavera now," Catty assured the young girl as she leaned back to admire the skeleton skull she had made on her face. "Who's next?" Catty asked and pulled out another paintbrush. Four hands shot up, but one little girl eased into the chair in front of Catty before she had a chance to choose. "My turn," she said. Catty smiled and began smudging white over the girl's rosy cheeks.

Serena Killingsworth walked toward them, carrying her cello in a brown case. Her short hair, currently colored Crayola-red, was twisted into bobby-pin curls. A nose ring glistened on the side of her nose. She wore purple lipstick, red-brown shadow around her green eyes, and a smile that seemed to hold a secret. She was new at school. Vanessa liked her look and especially admired the way she seemed so oblivious to what other people thought about her.

I know I'm still young and there's a lot of time for things to happen, but sometimes I think there is something about me that's wrong, that I'm not the kind of person anyone can fall in love with, and that I'll always just be alone.

Lenny's face was smiling, too. For a minute they were both ten years old. Time travel in real life.

Good-bye, ocean," said Alix. "This was the best time I ever had." "You always say that," said Jools. "It's always true," said Alix.

Over and over and over, Mom and Dad towed them out, turned them around, then let go. The water whooshed them back to shore. The hot sun above, the cold water beneath: it was a feeling you could never get tired of.

Lynne Reid Banks

Let youth cherish sleep, the happiest of earthly boons, while yet it is at their command; for there cometh the day to all, when neither the voice of the lute nor the bird shall bring back the sweet slumbers that fell on their young eyes as unbidden as the dews.

In the lexicon of youth, which fate reserves For a bright manhood, there is no such word As "fail".

Dream, O youth! Dream manfully and nobly, and thy dreams shall be prophets!