Best 1761 quotes in «youth quotes» category

We grew up on the same street, You and me. We went to the same schools, Rode the same bus, Had the same friends, And even shared spaghetti With each other's families. And though our roots belong to The same tree, Our branches have grown In different directions. Our tree, Now resembles a thousand Other trees In a sea of a trillion Other trees With parallel destinies And similar dreams. You cannot envy the branch That grows bigger From the same seed, And you cannot Blame it on the sun's direction. But you still compare us, As if we're still those two Kids at the park Slurping down slushies and Eating ice cream. Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun (2010)

...we had no real qualities, except the one that youth gives to everyone for a very brief time, like a big promise that will never be kept.

We have all had stupid youths,' said Mathilde. 'I find them delicious.

we have faith to sit in a chair, and continue to believe in its foundation that holds us up. If we have faith in God, the foundation will hold us both up, so its our decision to take the seat and trust him.

We have done with Hope and Honour, we are lost to Love and Truth, We are dropping down the ladder rung by rung, And the measure of our torment is the measure of our youth. God help us, for we knew the worst too young! from "Gentleman Rankers

We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master Shallow.

We knew it was only a moment. Our days of cool were numbered. Even when we were in it, right now was already gone. We didn’t know what it would be. Maybe a man. A baby. A death. What we knew was that soon, we’d pass thirty and get wrapped up in dull, adult things with no time or energy leftover to work at being cool. Just like that. Whoosh. Zoom. It’s over, and we’re here. From past to present.

We know from several statements of Knecht's that he wanted to write the former Master's biography, but official duties left him no time for such a task. He had learned to curb his own wishes. Once he remarked to one of his tutors: "It is a pity that you students aren't fully aware of the luxury and abundance in which you live. But I was exactly the same when I was still a student. We study and work, don't waste much time, and think we may rightly call ourselves industrious–but we are scarcely conscious of all we could do, all that we might make of our freedom. Then we suddenly receive a call from the hierarchy, we are needed, are given a teaching assignment, a mission, a post, and from then on move up to a higher one, and unexpectedly find ourselves caught in a network of duties that tightens the more we try to move inside it. All the tasks are in themselves small, but each one has to be carried out at its proper hour, and the day has far more tasks than hours. That is well; one would not want it to be different. But if we ever think, between classrooms, Archives, secretariat, consulting room, meetings, and official journeys–if we ever think of the freedom we possessed and have lost, the freedom for self-chosen tasks, for unlimited, far-flung studies, we may well feel the greatest yearning for those days, and imagine that if we ever had such freedom again we would fully enjoy its pleasures and potentialities.

Well, sir, it is precisely my notion that one sees and learns most of all by observing our younger generations.

We may say that all ages are dangerous to all people, in this dangerous life we live. But the thirties are a specially dangerous time for women. They have outlived the shyness and restraints of girlhood, and not attained to the caution and discretion of middle age. They are reckless, and consciously or unconsciously on the lookout for adventure. They see ahead of them the end of youth, and that quickens their pace.

We often don't realize the passing of years until we see them in a child.

We place such crazy importance on physical appearance in our image-obsessed culture, on youth and beauty to define our sense of self-worth, that aging, by default, becomes a kind of defect, something secret and corrosive and shameful.

We recognised that the youth demographic needed to be pursued, preferably with dogs.

Weren’t all ‘young’ people the same? Disillusioned, world-weary, bored out of their minds? The constant need for adventure, that constant need to ridicule suburban life and jobs that keep you desk bound and microwavable food and comfort. Everything was fake and every day had to be a day closer to the genuine. They were always single, these ‘young’ people, childless, unattached, maybe rich. Selfish. He remembered being 'young’ and being horribly, horribly selfish. How infinite he felt. Now he found comfort in the predictability of the train. But he didn’t miss his old self. Even then he knew he was lost.

We sat there smiling at each other, shimmied to a standstill, thinking about all the boys that had wanted us that day, and how none of them had got us, not for a minute; how we'd let them pay for drinks and candyfloss and then run away laughing, their cries of 'Slags!' and 'Bitches' ringing in our ears like respect rather than derision.

we’re too old to be young.

We're too young to want to stop living, because after all, we shouldn't stop something we haven't even started.

We sail in leaky bottoms and on great and perilous waters; and to take a cue from the dolorous old naval ballad, we have heard the mer-maidens singing, and know that we shall never see dry land any more. Old and young, we are all on our last cruise. If there is a fill of tobacco among the crew, for God's sake pass it round, and let us have a pipe before we go!

we're teenagers," Sylvia said. "we're all depressed.

We shouldn't have been so scornful; we should have had compassion. But compassion takes work, and we were young.

We skip school and we ditch chores. We haunt shopping malls and grocery stores. House parties grow dull, but Amy's boyfriend is a dealer and we find ways to pass the time.

We spent that summer in complete selfishness, I'm happy to say. The people in the world who could be selfish in the summer of 1942 were a small band, and I'm glad we took advantage of it.

We were in a phase, through television and the movies, of living only vicariously. Even faintly sordid silliness excited us if it put us in contact with love.

We were young together in the worst way.

What Douglas had once seen as the attractive over-confidence of youth, now looked more like unyielding selfishness.

We will love each other. We will be young. As two dogs playing together, childish again.

We youths say “like” all the time because we mistrust reality.

What about young age? You will be miserable all through your 15 years to reach that goal of $10 million. After 50 years, even if you pay a million to get back a week of your time at 35, you will never get that. Your beer will taste very different when you are at 50 from how it tasted at 30.

What defines you isn't how many times you crash but the number of times you get back.

What ever happened to the passion we all had to improve ourselves, live up to our potential, leave a mark on the world? Our hottest arguments were always about how we could contribute. We did not care about the rewards. We were young and earnest.

What hurts so bad about youth isn't the actual butt whippings the world delivers. It's the stupid hopes playacting like certainties.

What I didn't know until right this very minute was how growing up happens in little surges. We grow up in moments - when we encounter such stupidities in ourselves that our only choice is to grow past them or into them. Maybe that's why some kids grow up too fast and others not at all.

what it is is the memory of a dance a song you heard long ago to hear it is to be young again and for once for once you are happy

What more is required than a kind of stupid, insensitive doggedness, as lover, as writer, together with a readiness to fail and fail again?

What larks we had," said James. "When?" "When we were young." I could not recall any larks I had had with James. I poured out the wine and we sat in silence.

What the hell? Die in a fire, youth. Die in a fire.

What sort of charge against old age is the nearness of death, when this is shared by youth? Yes, you will say; but a young man expects to live long; an old man cannot expect to do so. Well, the young man is a fool to expect it. For what can be more foolish than to regard the uncertain as certain, the false as true? An old man has nothing even to hope. ' Ah, but it is just there that he is in a better position than the young man, since what the latter only hopes he has obtained: The one wishes to live long; the other has lived long. And yet! what is 'long' in a man's life? For grant the utmost limit: let us expect an age like that of the king of the Tartessi, who reigned eighty years and lived a hundred and twenty. Nothing seems long in which there is any . last' , for when that arrives, then all the past has slipped away -only that remains which you have earned by virtue and righteous actions. Hours indeed, and days and months and years depart, nor does past time ever return, nor can the future be known. Whatever time each is granted for life, with that he is bound to be content.

What's so praiseworthy about entrusting your sense of what's right to someone else?

What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind.

What use was utopia without joy, after all? What was the point of all their striving if it did not include the laughter of the young?

What was youth at best? A green, an unripe time, a time of shallow moods, and sickly thoughts.

When a young person dies before their body and cells have decided to succumb, the universe makes a sound much like ripe fruit being run over by a train.

When children become teenagers, their feelings are often invalidated by others because they have a hard time expressing them. They can’t find the words to use so adults deem their emotions as a “stage of adolescence.” As a result, everything beautiful and raw about life is reduced to a phase they’ll grow out of. Although how often is our growth just abandonment? Some people don’t mature, they just run away from their problems faster than they used to and happen to age. We greatly underestimate the tragedy of leaving behind the unaddressed. Many of our most intuitive and sincere experiences are lost to time. It is one of life’s saddest deficits.

When Douglas walked, his mind ran, when he ran, his mind walked.

What you post online speaks VOLUME about who you really are. POST with intention. REPOST with caution.

When a child keeps asking you to tell him/her a story, what they instinctively really want to know is their true purpose and mission in life. Sadly, this knowledge was never sought out by their parents, and explains why children's books are a very hot and lucrative industry. Instead of telling your child how to become a compassionate citizen of the world, or how to live a meaningful existence by being a positive asset to humanity, you are conditioned by society to simply read your kid a fairytale.

When a mere girl, my mother offered me a dollar if I would read the Bible through; . . . . despairing of reconciling many of its absurd statements with even my childish philosophy, . . . I became a sceptic, doubter, and unbeliever, long ere the 'Good Book' was ended.

When children become teenagers, their feelings are often invalidated by others because they have a hard time expressing them. They can’t find the words to use so adults deem their emotions as a “stage of adolescence.” As a result, everything beautiful and raw about life is reduced to a phase they're supposed to grow out of. Although how often is our growth just abandonment? Some people don’t mature, they just run away from their problems faster than they used to and happen to age. We greatly underestimate the tragedy of leaving behind the unaddressed. Many of our most intuitive and sincere experiences are lost to time. It is one of life’s saddest deficits

Whenever a young thing wants to be free minus serious thought, she gets pregnant and then gets married. Voilà!

When he was young, he told her, each phase of his life, each self he tried on, had seemed reassuringly temporary. Its imperfections didn't matter, because he could easily replace one moment by the next, one Saladin by another.