Quotes About Youth

The thoughts of youth,' he continued, 'are bright lights that shine forth like the meteors that oft make brilliant the sky, but the wisdom of age is like the fixed stars that shine so unchanged that the sailor may depend upon them to steer his course.

an old tongue loves to wag. And when youth comes to age for advice he receives the wisdom of years.

Youth is ambitious. Youth would take short cuts to wealth

To secure wealth quickly youth often borrows unwisely.

And when youth comes to age for advice he receives the wisdom of years.

The thoughts of youth are bright lights that shine forth like the meteors that oft make brilliant the sky, but the wisdom of age is like the fixed stars that shine so unchanged that the sailor may depend upon them to steer his course.

Je n'ai pas cessé de l'être si c'est d'être jeune que d'aimer toujours !... L'humanité n'est pas un vain mot. Notre vie est faite d'amour, et ne plus aimer c'est ne plus vivre. (I have never ceased to be young, if being young is always loving... Humanity is not a vain word. Our life is made of love, and to love no longer is to live no longer.)

La nature est une oeuvre d'art, mais Dieu est le seul artiste qui existe, et l'homme n'est qu'un arrangeur de mauvais goût. La nature est belle, le sentiment s'exhale de tous ses pores; l'amour, la jeunesse, la beauté y sont impérissables. Mais l'homme n'a pour les sentir et les exprimer que des moyens absurdes et des facultés misérables. Il vaudrait mieux qu'il ne s'en mêlat pas, qu'il fût muet et se renfermât dans la contemplation.

What I'm putting forth, he said, is that the four of us make some memories, become fast friends and abandon starchy old mind-sets about monogamy. The world's gone crazy. Let's do the same. The answer is no, Dad said. And I'm surprised I'm not punching you.

He was not perfect; he was, remember, a little boy. Could be wild, naughty, overwrought. He was a boy. However - it must be said - he was quite a good boy.

World rips kid's guts out

The young, Ayn Randish Republican that I was, discounted Vonnegut as one of them: A former hippie, maybe, or a proto-hippie, someone who, unlike me, wasn't earnest/tough/focused enough to be huge, classic, and utterly pure.

Then, with no change in size at all (i.e., while still child-sized), he displayed his various future-forms (forms he had, alas, never succeeded in attaining): Nervous young man in wedding-coat; Naked husband, wet-groined with recent pleasure; Young father leaping out of bed to light a candle at a child's cry; Grieving widower, hair gone white; Bent ancient fellow with an ear trumpet, athwart a stump, swatting at flies All the while seeming quite innocent of these alterations

I felt myself a new species of child. Not a boy (most assuredly) but neither a (mere) girl. That skirt-bound race perpetually moving about serving tea had nothing to do with me.

And off they went, emitting a perfect major triad via fart-noises with their mouths

The war was less than a year old. We did not yet know what it was. In "A Thrilling Youth: A Civil War Adolescence," by E. G. Frame.

Where got she her sullen mouth And where her swaying form? Would she live on eggs and apples When the blood of men is warm? ("The Young Witch")

Rarely is the question asked: Is our children learning?

Those were comfortable, carefree years. The word I'd use now is idyllic. On Friday nights, we cheered on the Bulldogs of Midland High. On Sunday mornings, we went to church. Nobody locked their doors. Years later, when I would speak about the American Dream, it was Midland I had in mind.

I snorted coke in college, but I didn't inhale!

When I was young and irresponsible, I was young and irresponsible.

a world where yesterday's classmate and fellow altar server becomes tomorrow's martyr to the firing squads.

Twenty years later, the boy who used to stick himself with pens was standing under the sky in a for­eign street where he had never been, waiting for some unknown, impossible event. There were stars: an infinity of stars. It was absurd - absurd enough to make you scream; but it was a hostile absurdity.

She must have been pretty once. At least, like everyone, she had been young. Now her eyes, her mouth, her whole body exuded weakness. Could it be that she was ill and waiting for her next attack? Some people who know that at a particular hour they are going to start suffering again have that expression, subdued and yet tense, like drug addicts waiting for the hour of their dose.