Quotes About Youth

J]uvenile delinquent' is a contradiction in terms. 'Delinquent' means 'failing in duty.' But duty is an adult virtue--indeed a juvenile becomes an adult when, and only when, he acquires a knowledge and duty and embraces it more than the self-love he was born with.

A great artist can look at an old woman, portray her exactly as she is . . . and force the viewer to see the pretty girl she used to be . . . more than that, he can make anyone with the sensitivity of an armadillo see that this lovely young girl is still alive, prisoned inside her ruined body. He can make you feel the quiet, endless tragedy that there was never a girl born who ever grew older than eighteen in her heart . . . no matter what the merciless hours have done.

Little Brother...precious darling...little imp with lively legs and lovely lewd lascivious lecherous licentious libido...beautiful bumps and pert posterior...with soft voice and gentle hands. My baby darling.

Marriage is a young man's disaster and an old man's comfort." He

A great artist can look at an old woman, portray her exactly as she is . . . and force the viewer to see the pretty girl she used to be . . . more than that, he can make anyone with the sensitivity of an armadillo see that this lovely young girl is still alive, prisoned inside her ruined body.

Don't grunt; it is not pleasing in a young woman.

From somewhere, back in my youth, heard Prof say, "Manuel, when faced with a problem you do not understand, do any part of it you do understand, then look at it again." He had been teaching me something he himself did not understand very well—something in math—but had taught me something far more important, a basic principle.

When I was younger, I thought I could change this world. Now I no longer think so but for emotional reasons I must keep on fighting a holding action.

He can make you feel the quiet, endless tragedy that there was never a girl born who ever grew older than eighteen in her heart . . . no matter what the merciless hours have done.

To stay young requires unceasing cultivation of the ability to unlearn old falsehoods.

beauty will lure a man into bed, but it won't bring him back a second time, unless he's awfully young or very stupid.

These children were often caught; police arrested batches each day. Were they scolded? Yes, often scathingly. Were their noses rubbed in it? Rarely. News organs and officials usually kept their names secret—in many places the law so required for criminals under eighteen. Were they spanked? Indeed not! Many had never been spanked even as small children; there was a widespread belief that spanking, or any punishment involving pain, did a child permanent psychic damage.

The result is of unique historical importance despite the Archivist's decision to leave in blatant falsehoods, self-serving allegations, and many amoral anecdotes not suitable for young persons.

The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche explored the burden of the unlived that is not reclaimed: Zarathustra goes to the grave with the unfulfilled dreams of his youth. He speaks to them as if they were ghosts who have betrayed him bitterly. They struck up a dance and then spoiled the music. Did the past make his path so weighty? Did his unlived life impede him and consign him to a life that seems not to pass?

What if you could be young again and were able to undo the things that were done that made you into the person you would later become. But then who would you be.

know. I've been in classes with her. She's bright, but she's screwed up. Jesus, they're so miserable, those kids, always so goddamn unhappy about racism and sexism and imperialism and militarism and capitalism. Man, I grew up in a tarpaper house in Fayette, Mississippi, with ten other kids. We were trying to stay alive; we didn't have time to be that goddamn unhappy.

Paul a smart kid," Hawk said. "I know." "And he pretty strong," Hawk said. "He is." "Got from his uncle," Hawk said. "Uncle Hawk?" "Sho' nuff." "Jesus Christ," I said.

The young man void of understanding may be depended upon to fall into the ditch of debauchery without much pushing, and

I watched the kids walking past us on the sidewalk. They looked pretty much like any other kids. They were dressed for each other. Oversized clothes, sneakers, hats on backwards, or sideways. Most of them tried to look confident. Most of them were full of pretense. All of them were a little overmatched by the speed at which the world came at them. But these kids weren't like other kids, and I knew it. These kids were doomed. And they knew it.

We're fifteen," he said. "And we found each other already? Is that possible? Can you find somebody at fifteen?

Smiling the boy fell dead.

Have you found your life distasteful? My life did and does smack sweet. Was your youth of pleasure wasteful? Mine I save and hold complete. Do your joys with age diminish? When mine fail me, I'll complain. Must in death your daylight finish? My sun sets to rise again.

Mine be some figured flame which blends, transcends them all! Not for such hopes and fears Annulling youth's brief years, Do I remonstrate: folly wide the mark! Rather I prize the doubt Low kinds exist without, Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark. Poor vaunt of life indeed, Were man but formed to feed On joy, to solely seek and find and feast; Such feasting ended, then As sure an end to men.

Rhyme for a Child Viewing a Naked Venus in a Painting of "The Judgement of Paris" He gazed and gazed and gazed and gazed, Amazed, amazed, amazed, amazed.