Quotes About Youth

Things were pretty cold-blooded back in Rockdale. That's when my arms were so pretty I could hold them up to the light and see the veins curling all clean and smooth like little blue branches.

Once I looked over at Welton and he was wiping his nose. I couldn't tell if he was crying or on nasal spray.

There you go. Perfect. And can you still throw up at will like you could in sixth grade? That would be good.

The curse of immaturity," he said, "is that the more immature you are the more desperate you are to impress others. An' the less likely you are to do the right thing, the thing that's gonna impress 'em. So you get the teen who likes to rev his engine, drive too fast, all to show what a capable and heroic adult he is. An' all the adults he passes shake their heads an' think, 'What an idiot kid.

It's at times like this, said Pu Sto, massaging her wounded shoulder gently and grimacing, when I'm sitting inside Shakespeare's nose about to be shot through the torso - for the second time today - by one of our government's most capable assassins, that I really wished I'd listened to what my mother told me when I was young.

But in the languor of disease and the weariness of old age, the pleasures of the vain and empty distinctions of greatness disappear. To one, in this situation, they are no longer capable of recommending those toilsome pursuits in which they had formerly engaged him. In his heart he curses ambition, and vainly regrets the ease and the indolence of youth, pleasures which are fled for ever, and which he has foolishly sacrificed for what, when he has got it, can afford him no real satisfaction.

But one half the children born, it is computed, die before the age of manhood.

Everything's finished. Riders gallop black horses, a tyrant composes a sentence of death with grammatical errors. Youth dissolves in a day; girls' faces freeze into medallions, despair turns to rapture and the hard fruits of stars in the sky ripen like grapes, and beauty endures, shaken, unperturbed, and God is and God dies; night returns to us in the evening, and the dawn is hoary with dew.

Young men rushed to enlist, not just to have a go at the British, but also to assert the intellectual supremacy of Enlightenment France.

Kids have the gift of sleep. They were so peaceful, they were part of a tomorrow when all of this was over.

I stuck on the lunchtime news. More riots. Tedious now. Depressing. You ever read Thucycdides? I'll boil him down for you in one easy moral: intergenerational war is a very bad thing.

I'm not down with the kids, though, am I? And you still haven't answered my question. What's an SEP?" "Someone else's problem, Sean," Matty said, with a heavy and significant sigh.

Maybe a first love exists to reaffirm the best parts of yourself, the choices you made when you didn't worry about the consequences. Maybe a first love exists to remind you to be brave in the moment, to stand up for your feelings, instead of shrinking back in the face of potential loneliness.

Ciro took Enza's face in his hands. I have loved you all of my life. I was a boy who knew nothing, but when I met you, somehow I understood everything

For young fellows like them, the war was a chance to become men, to see the world and save it and return home as American citizens. It didn't occur to either of them that lives would be lost, that the world they were to defend would shift under their feet and never be the same again. They only dreamed of the adventure.

As a matter of habit, I stop and pick up seashells that interest me, and I always put the ones I really like in a lovely Baccarat bowl in my living room. It's my way of remembering that I once was young and carefree.

The young have everything but wisdom.

But now I know that youth isn't waiting for you on the other side of wisdom.

were, and your people. Lucky was the woman who had a friend from the age of ten, when girls were brave, gutsy, and full of questions and had the time and pep to seek the answers. That friend knew who you really were. That friend had seen your soul.

When Matelda was young, she chased time to get what she wanted. Now she chased time to hold on to it.

but remember there is a fine line between youngish and old.

And there they ring the walls, the young, the lithe. The handsome hold the graves they won in Troy; the enemy earth rides over those who conquered.

You are young and young your rule and you think that the tower in which you live is free from sorrow: from it have I not seen two tyrants thrown? The third, who now is king, I shall yet live to see him fall, of all three most suddenly, most dishonored.

Old men are always young enough to learn, with profit.