Best 660 quotes in «coming of age quotes» category

...ya can't get to Nevada on five bucks and a bad heart...

Y aunque no había transcurrido, yo percibía inmensos espacios de tiempo entre mi ayer taciturno y mi hoy vaciloso. Pensé: Ahora que todo ha cambiado, ¿quién soy yo dentro del amplio uniforme?

Yes, King Eirik, I can't do this alone. I'm not a knight or even a fighter for that matter. I'm just a normal boy, who is looking for his Grandfather.

Yet I had become very attached to George Roc. I liked him, not for the joy of playing with him, not for some talent that made him stand out from the rest, not even for his kindness: above all, I liked him because he was always sad and because the things he told me caused me a degree of pain.....George Roc was the first being that I'd met who saw and felt himself unhappy.

Yo ahora era un hombre libre, y ¿qué tiene que ver la sociedad con la libertad?

Yo soy mi propio hogar, mi lugar es este en el que me encuentro y nada puede impedirlo, como cuando ese fabuloso azul antes del alba da paso rápidamente a un amanecer de una belleza distinta.

You are meant to be, despite how you got here; you’ll see someday.

You can keep moving your blowup mattress around in the night where the shadows keep you pretty, and cover your face, so that no one can see that you have a home in me that you won't admit you'll never and always be: the beach bum of my heart.

You come to me, you appear to me in the night, the fact that you're not here appears to me, that I can't tell you this even though I pretend like I can, not being able to ever tell you is still something I can't understand. That you could have taken so long to decompose, too, that, too, I can't believe there's still so much left of you, down there, buried, hair and things like that, skin. I don't want to take anything, I never wanted to, and I would give (I don't know what, not everything because you wouldn't be there, but I'd give a lot) so much to be able to tell you, for real, to see you, to sing a song with you, shout it out hugging each other, have you over to my apartment, for you to get to know my house and my boyfriend, the one I have now, and have him get to know you and have you tell me which one's better, which one you like better, if it's Juli, if it's him, even though obviously you would like Manuel better, and in reality you wouldn't care about either of them, because the two of us is enough, there's nothing else, we never needed anything else, although we did.

You haunt my days and dreams.

You'd be wise to learn, child, that this is no fairy tale.

You don't have to go back to the way things were. Just go back to the point where you left off. Don't start over... just keep going, but there's a right way of keeping going. And no one here is going to be angry at you for leaving. We all have to leave sometimes. And some of us never come back. But there's always a choice, even if you've already decided never to return. You can still come back from this. That is the only kind of faith that matters. Not in the world, not in...God..., not in our friendship... just in yourself.

You go and do what you need to do, June," she says to me. "You go and find what you need. Your supper will be here, when you need it. Your supper will be warm. No matter where I am, that will be your home," she says. And I can't believe it, watching her. That look on her face. It is all the love that I didn't have growing up, making a face.

You know one day, you're going to look back on these days. And everyone you went to high school with will either be getting married to each other, shitting out kids, or dropping dead like flies," when she spoke, Miss Jenson sighed at the end of every few words; she must have been narrating her own thoughts she might have otherwise kept to herself, "and everything you never did, you'll never be able to even try.

You'll never have to fend for yourself like that, Lincoln. You never have to be alone. Why would you want to?" He leaned back against his bedroom wall and slunk down until he was sitting on the cast-iron radiator. "I just...," he said. "Just?" "I need to live my life." "You aren't living your own life now?" she asked. "I certainly never tell you what to do." "No, I know, it's just..." "Just?" "It doesn't feel like I'm living my own life." "What?" "It feels like, as long as I stay home, I'm still living your life. like I'm still a kid." "That's silly," she said. "Maybe," he said.

You'll get fired if anyone finds out about us!" "So many rules in this century," Vane muttered.

You really are sort of a basic person, aren’t you, except for that blue stratospheric veneer of crust you wrap yourself around. I was going to ask you, with your usual never-ending broadside complaints of lack and wearisome bushwa ‘nonsensical’ humdrum excuses, just exactly what kind of person are you? You must have had it easy growing up. Now, as per your habit, tonight when you hit the hay, percle on this: There are 7even basic types of people—: 1. People who make things happen. 2. People who talk about making things happen. 3. People who start to make things happen but never finish. 4. People who watch things happen. 5. People who wonder what just happened. 6. People who don’t have the faintest idea that anything happened. 7. People who need a stout “clue-by-four” of hickory smacked up alongside their head to make them happen. — As for an eighth— —Which one are you? Puzȥle it out. . . . -- Thomas Kannon, Instructor to Brickley. The Lady and the Samurai

You only go through High School once, but if you go through the way we did, that's enough.

Your mother would have more luck winning her election than teaching you how to be charming. Izzy Malone, going to charm school! Are you going to walk across the room with a book stuck on your head?" "No, it's not like that at all," I said as he doubled over with laughter. "And I really don't see what's so funny." "It's just that"--he gasped--"it would be like teaching a hippo to wear high heels!

Your layered, sweater-y, thickset hug around me—I dared to dream of your bare, balmy, broken-down skin tangled in mine. It was a twist of artless fate in my mind. I watched you pull away... on your "Naked" bike. I was covered in a trench coat, but more than naked enough for the both of us....

Your own life starts the moment you're born. Before that, even." "I just, I feel like as long as I live with you, I won't... I'm not... It's like George Jefferson." "From the TV show?" "Right. George Jefferson. As long as he was on 'All in the Family', he was just somebody who made Archie Bunker's story more interesting. He didn't have anything of his own. He didn't have a plot or supporting characters. I don't know if you ever even got to see his house. But after he got his own show, George had his own living room and kitchen... and bedroom, I think. He even had his own elevator. Places for him to exist in, for his story to happen. Like this apartment. This is something that's mine.

You’re you. Uniquely, wonderfully you.", Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

Your personal truth is your gift to the world.

You’ve always been my summer.”, Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

You see, there is a major downfall to living in a tourist town. You guessed it, the constant turnover of new people. You cannot really connect with anyone because no one is ever here for more than two weeks every year, if they comeback at all. The intruders never thought about what happens once they leave. ~ Stella

Abuse could be a slope as slick as ice after a shower of freezing rain.

Dullness is the coming of age of seriousness.

Abstract white cirrus clouds streaked across the sky. The cool breeze rustled the leaves in the trees and disturbed the ones settled on the ground. Anaya couldn’t help but see a metaphor in that.

You were just a young girl not wanting to let on that death could happen to one who hadn't even lived yet.

There aren't a lot of films about adolescents or quote-unquote coming-of-age films that are realistic nowadays.

94 was a good year to be twelve. Star Wars still had two more years as Box Office King, cartoons were still hand-drawn, and the Disney "D" still looked like a backwards "G." Words like "Columbine," "Al Qaeda" and "Y2K" were not synonymous with "terror," and 9-1-1 was an emergency number instead of a date. At twelve years old, summer still mattered. Monarch caterpillars still crawled beneath every milkweed leaf. Dandelions (or "wishes" as Mara called them) were flowers instead of pests. And divorce was still considered a tragedy. Before Mara, carnivals didn't make me sick.

Adam stared down at me, his expression thunderous. “It was you. I know it was you.” My head was rocking side to side before I could stop it. “No.” I wrenched my hand free of his. “You’re wrong.” “I’m not!” Anger blazed hot behind his eyes as they burned into me. “Look at me, Kia! Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not her.

A good writer never tells your secrets, they tell their own. They sacrifice themselves and surrender you.

Ah, but don't you see? It is when things are most quiet that you must be most alert. For you never know what lurks in the silence.

A hothouse flower trained to bloom out of season and in the wrong climate. I do not belong.

All I can think about is how I wanted to share those firsts with Logan and how I never knew it was an impossibility because it had already been taken away from me.

Anaya sensed her opportunity and stole a moment to take in what Emberswick looked like in her teens. Still an engineering town, with a heap of lumber mills to show for it. It had been systematically envisioned and built around lush, small woods and pretty, little parks, spotted with bubbling fountains. A charming place to live, with a pleasant pace of life, and the people were just as engaging.

All of the crazy, risky, wild, dangerous, irrational things I'd been doing, like rushing through my firsts. I'd been wrong, desperate. Just waiting for the end." - Edie

All the carriages filed out in single file but in a fashion that seemed to mean that they were competing against each other. The only sound that could be heard for a while was the pounding of the horses’ hooves and the squeal and groan of the wheels against the road. Their hooves kicked up dirt, creating a storm of dust. Once the miniature storm and the sound of galloping horses subsided, I could only see one last person. He glared up at me and mouthed, “Next time.” Christopher dug his boots into Dawn’s muscled flank. She reared up and broke into a gallop through the sparse forest, heading for escape. The last trace of them was the particles of floating dust, bright like floating fire.

Amma and i went to each house to tell them we were leaving. They all said, 'Don't forget us. Keep visiting.' At the age I was then, this seemed absurd. i had grown up among them - how was it even possible to forget these people? Now I see what they meant.

Anaya inhaled the rich scent of soil, along with the sharp, citric smell of thriving vegetation and the sweetness of fresh dew. Her eyes drifted shut and she pricked up her ears, the gushing sound of the nearby waterfalls enveloping her.

And in the silence what followed, I reckon our eyes had some long conversation our mouths could’ve never talked through. Some long, looking talk about things gone and long since said. About cries out in the night and some long ago tangling of limbs. And about them betrayals done time and time again—by both of us—what led to me pointing the Green Man’s rifle at the man what once loved me under the Green Man’s stars.

And scars will lighten, they'll pale unless you keep rubbing at them...wait long enough, they'll fade.

All the joints and drinks in the world could only serve to remind me. I imagine myself being Gatsby watching the party that I have thrown to get to where I am. A future where there is a something. Where I am better, where I am something.

Almost everyone first realized they were becoming a grown woman when some dude did something nasty to them. ...It was mostly men yelling shit from cars. Are they a patrol sent out to let girls know they've crossed into puberty? If so, it's working.

A motorcycle is a vehicle of change, after all. It puts the wheels beneath a midlife crisis, or a coming-of-age saga, or even just the discovery of something new, something you didn't realize was there. It provides the means to cross over, to transition, or to revitalize; motorcycles are self-discovery's favorite vehicle.

And I envy you. You have the one thing that matters. You have all your discoveries before you.

And if revenge was all I had, then I was goddamned if it wouldn’t be enough.

And i still don't know how to make sense of the world. but maybe it's okay that it's bigger than what we can hold on to.

And so, Anaya's story begins with her last thought. Would I have done this if I had any option but the grave?