Quotes About Youth

We are the old, dishonoured ones, the broken husks of men. Even then they cast us off, the rescue mission left us here to prop a child's strength upon a stick. What if the new sap rises in his chest? He has no soldiery in him, no more than we, and we are the aged past ageing, gloss of the leaf shrivelled, three legs at a time we falter on. Old men are children once again, a dream that sways and wavers into the hard light of day.

Old age that's quick to learn is always young.

How do I think of you? As someone I want to be with. As someone as young as me, but older, if that makes sense. As someone I like to look at, not just because you're good to look at, but because just looking at you makes me smile and feel happier. As someone who knows her mind and who I envy for that. As someone who is strong in herself without seeming to need anyone else to help her. As someone who makes me thinks and unsettles me in a way that makes me feel more alive.

Ponytail girl leaned over and she and the tall boy kissed and it was carcinogen gums and magical.

Most teenage girls don't give old people the time of day which is sad because all old people do all the time is think about how nice it was to be a teenager so long ago.

In those days, she let her hair loose, down to her waist, and whenever I met old friends of hers, they would describe my mother as having resembled a mermaid with legs. With a sheerness to her skin that people wanted to shield.

our changes in height remained unmarked on the door frames, so we grew up tall on our own without proof

No matter how good or successful you are or how clever or crafty, your business and its future are in the hands of the people you hire. To put it a bit more dramatically, the fate of your business is actually in the hands of the youngest recruit on the staff.

Life was good back then, in the crappy, oppressive way life is good for fourteen year olds, which is to say, it completely sucked but seems pretty good in the obscuring glare of nostalgia.

Today's younger generation is no worse than my own. We were just as ignorant and repulsive as they are, but nobody listened to us.

S.W.I.N.E - Students wildly indignant about nearly everything

I was relying on youth be loyal to the specific variety of compromise and unhappiness, which our hard-won marriage represents.

Appreciating the beauty of crusty loaves does not preclude our interest in a château, but failing to do so must call into question our overall capacity for appreciation. The gap between what the dissatisfied youth could see in his flat and what Chardin noticed in very similar interiors places the emphasis on a certain way of looking, as opposed to a mere process of acquiring or possessing.

My mother used to say, Delia if sex ever rears its ugly head, close your eyes before you see the rest of it.

I note at the age of ten a fully developed ability not quite to enjoy myself, a capacity I have retained intact ever since.

3 June. The air is full of birdsong now in June as it never is in July or August perhaps because it's too hot or because the birds have built their nests, raised their young and gone. Now there is trilling, chinking and chirruping, a dialogue of persistence and variety that goes on far into the night.

Esplodere? disse la regina. Ma era Anita Brookner!. Il giovane, decisamente poco ossequioso, disse che magari la sicurezza l'aveva scambiato per un ordigno. E la regina: Ma certamente. Perché lo è. Un libro è un ordigno per infiammare l'immaginazione.

Leggere vuol dire sottrarsi. Rendersi irreperibili. Sarebbe già diverso» disse Sir Kevin «se come passatempo fosse meno… egoistico». «Egoistico?». «Forse dovrei dire solipsistico». «E allora lo dica». Al che Sir Kevin si lanciò. «Se potessimo veicolare le sue letture per uno scopo più ampio: acculturare il paese, ad esempio, per promuovere la lettura fra i giovani.

When we are young, we think life will be like a su po: one fabric, one weave, one grand design. But in truth, life turns out to be more like the patchwork cloths—bits and pieces, odds and ends—people, places, things we never expected, never wanted, perhaps. There is harmony in this, too, and beauty. I suppose that is why I like the chogak po.

I've found that most people do a lot of talking and they wind up not saying very much. Especially adults when they're talking to children. It's kind of like they enjoy talking at you but not to you. They want you to listen to them all the time, but they don't want to listen to you. I think that's pretty stupid. Just because you're small doesn't mean you don't have some important things to say.

No one offered to help her with the heavy load. In Niima, youth and gender were no barrier to neighborhood indifference.

If I had known what the next six years of my life were going to be like, I would have eaten more. I wouldn't have complained about brushing my teeth, or taking a bath, or going to bed at eight o'clock every night. I would have played more. Laughed more. I would have hugged my parents and told them I loved them. But I was ten years old, and I had no idea of the nightmare that was to come. None of us did.

Josef followed the small group of kids through the raised doorway onto the bridge of the St. Louis. The bridge was a narrow, curving room that stretched from one side of the ship to the other. Bright sunlight streamed in through two dozen windows, offering a panoramic view of the vast blue-green Atlantic and wispy white clouds. Throughout the wood-decked room were metal benches with maps and rulers on them, and the walls were dotted with mysterious gauges and meters made of shining brass.

He saw that first love had come with a bundle of other firsts, which he took hold of like a wonderful but worrying bouquet.