Quotes About Youth

Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short; youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; Youth is wild, and age is tame.

Were't not affection chains thy tender days To the sweet glances of thy honored love, I rather would entreat thy company To see the wonders of the world abroad Than, living dully sluggardized at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.

Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.

Lear: So young, and so untender?Cordelia: So young, my lord, and true.

O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shameWhen the compulsive ardor gives the charge,Since frost itself as actively doth burn,And reason panders will.

At your ageThe heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble.

A young man married is a man that's marr'd.

This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy,This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;Regent of love-rimes, lord of folded arms,The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,Liege of all loiters and malcontents.

I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth.

A Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy.

Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty;For in my youth I never did applyHot and rebellious liquors in my blood.

O! wither'd is the garland of the war,The soldier's pole is fall'n; young boys and girlsAre level now with men; the odds is gone,And there is nothing left remarkableBeneath the visiting moon.

Thou hast nor youth nor age;But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep,Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youthBecomes as aged, and doth beg the almsOf palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich,Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty,To make thy riches pleasant.

He was indeed the glassWherein the noble youth did dress themselves.

April hath put a spirit of youth in everything.

Then, let thy love be younger than thyself,Or thy affection cannot hold the bent;For women are as roses, whose fair flowerBeing once display'd, doth fall that very hour.

The chariest maid is prodigal enoughIf she unmask her beauty to the moon;Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes;The canker galls the infants of the springToo oft before their buttons be disclos'd,And in the morn and liquid dew of youthContagious blastments are most imminent.

An unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractic'd;Happy in this, she is not yet so oldBut she may learn.

Now all the youth of England are on fire,And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies.

Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in theeCalls back the lovely April of her prime.

Time doth transfix the flourish set on youthAnd delves the parallels in beauty's brow.

My comfort is, that old age, that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more spoil upon my face.

He capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May.

Love is too young to know what conscience is.