Best 497 quotes in «teenager quotes» category

Healthy boys grow into healthy men.

He hadn't suffered the eternity of the ring about to be picked up, didn't know the heart rush of hearing that incomparable voice suddenly linked with his own, the sense it gave of being too close to even see her, of being actually inside her ear.

Her life was a series of zigzags. At nineteen, she was anxious.

I’d never ride a rocket into out space, so standing at the edge of the ocean was probably the closest I’d get to touching something boundless and greater than myself. For me, the ocean had a way of putting the rest of the world into context for a couple seconds.

High school is just like the night sky. It's beautiful. Some moments, you're just in awe of it. But it's dark and endless, which can be scary, too. When the stars fall away, what's left?... The sun... Darkness goes away, but the sun shows up and you start over again. So let high school happen, and eventually, you light up the rest of your life. Burn as bright as you want. The wonderful thing about the sun is, it's always there. People don't have to see you to believe you'll be there.

I don't consider myself above the law, I consider myself above the principles. ~ Aarush Kashyap

If I was set an essay on Friday, I’d spend three hours on Saturday morning in the library. Was that normal? I didn’t know. What I did know was that I felt less prone to depression and more normal walking through Venice or staring out over the lake in Zurich. At home I wrestled continually with my moods. The black thing inside me gnawed like a rat at my self-esteem and self-confidence. I felt there was a happy person inside me too, who wanted to enjoy life, to be normal, but my feelings of self-loathing and the deep distrust I had towards my father wouldn’t allow that sunny person to come out. When the black thing had an iron grip on me, I couldn’t even look at my father: Did you do bad things to me when I was little? Like a line from a song stuck in your brain, the words ran through my head and never once came out of my mouth. Not that I needed to say what was in my mind. I was sure Father could read my thoughts in my moods, in the blank, dead stare of my eyes. It was hardly surprising that there was always an atmosphere of strain and awkwardness in the house, and the blame was always mine: Alice and her moods, Alice and her anorexia; Alice and her low self-esteem; Alice and her inescapable feelings of loss and emptiness.

I hated the idea of being half of an individual who could only be completed by someone else, the other half. I liked my independence." -Amya

I had no idea if I was doing the friend thing right or utterly screwing it up.

If young people are our greatest asset in a war that must be won then we must be willing to extricate them at whatever cost from the clutches of those who seek to exploit their weaknesses

I'm seventeen today and dressed for a party. But I can't move. I can't think, much less move. I can't breathe, much less think. This is the moment when my life will change forever.

I have realised I have never seen a dead body or a real female nipple. This is what comes of living in a cul-de-sac.

I know I don’t have the face of a woman who walks into an office and demands answers - I have the faces of a girl trying to be too many things at once.

I'm a teenager, and we mess up sometimes.

I sometimes forget that you're just a teenager. But I remember that - how everything feels bigger or, I don't know, somehow just more when you're your age.

I seem to be good at asking for trouble.

I squint my eyes and glare at him. “I don’t have a crush on Quinn anymore.” He raises a golden eyebrow. “No?” I shake my head. “No.” “Why is that?” I stare at him long and hard, trying to decide what to say. Should I be downright, painfully honest? I’ve always found that the best way to be, so I nod. “Two words.” He waits. “Dante. Giliberti.” I hear him suck in his breath and I smile. Sometimes, honesty is refreshing and so very worth it. “Me?” He sounds so surprised, as though he doesn’t know that he is practically a living breathing Adonis. I nod. “You.” He studies me again and I fight the need to fidget as I wait for his reaction. After a minute of nerve-wracking silence, he finally answers. “So, will you keep the bracelet?” I nod. “Can I kiss you again?” I nod. So he does.

I think the hardest part of being a teenage, or any age really, is the misconception that you're alone. You're not alone. You're not the only one going through what you're going through, and life does get better if you want it to.

It’s time to stop dreaming about who you want your son to be and help him become the healthy, happy, and successful man he’s supposed to be.

It's easy not to be disappointed when you're always wading in the shallow end of feelings.

I’ve never gotten a love letter before. But reading these notes like this, one after the other, it feels like I have. It’s like . . . it’s like there’s only ever been Peter. Like everyone else that came before him, they were all to prepare me for this. I think I see the difference now, between loving someone from afar and loving someone up close. When you see them up close, you see the real them, but they also get to see the real you. And Peter does. He sees me, and I see him.

Lindsay was a teenager...at the height of that weird mixture of thinking you know everything and caring too much about how others perceive you.

Mandy loved the smell of a sunny day after a night of rain. The sun hit the orange puddles, the overgrown, soft, green grass on her lawn, and it beamed down through the orange steel mill smog, sending otherworldly, bizarre shadows across the concrete sidewalk.

Nadya Zelenin and her mother had returned from a performance of Eugene Onegin at the theatre. Going into her room, the girl swiftly threw off her dress and let her hair down. Then she quickly sat at the table in her petticoat and white bodice to write a letter like Tatyana's. 'I love you,' she wrote, 'but you don't love me, you don't love me!' Having written this, she laughed. She was only sixteen and had never loved anyone yet. She knew that Gorny (an army officer) and Gruzdyov (a student) were both in love with her, but now, after the opera, she wanted to doubt their love. To be unloved and miserable: what an attractive idea! There was something beautiful, touching and romantic about A loving B when B wasn't interested in A. Onegin was attractive in not loving at all, while Tatyana was enchanting because she loved greatly. Had they loved equally and been happy they might have seemed boring. ("After The Theatre")

Nothing in the world has a greater power to enslave than fiction. ~ Aarush Kashyap

One can perceive me only with his limited vision. A droplet can't perceive the extent of the ocean. ~ Aarush Kashyap

Satu dari seribu, memang harus kamu

Sazed, I've raised some fifteen daughters," Tindwyl said, entering the room. "No teenage girl is stable. Some are just better at hiding it than others.

In the same way, teenagers imagine dying young because death is more imaginable than the person that all the decisions and burdens of adulthood may make of you.

She lied to me today," Archie said. "A teenager?" Susan said with faux surprise. "Lying to an authority figure? Impossible.

She may have been only sixteen years old, but there was a new life growing inside of her. She fought back tears that she could feel forming in her eyes. She hated to admit it but she was scared since she wasn’t even old enough to take care of a baby. She wasn’t even old enough to take care of herself. She was just a kid who still lived at home with her mother, and this kid was not ready to become a mother.

She saw clearly a boy and a man fighting for control of the same face.

Shirts and jeans litter the asphalt, the empty fabric limbs askew as if they're attempting to escape. Blood smears Sarah's lips as she struggles against the chest of a dirty looking man with a beard. Terror. Terror is the only word my mind can seize on and it forgets what it means. I forget how to think - to move.

So it was a crossroads summer, when the universe seemed to stand perilously still like an egg wobbling on a precipice, a regular rite of passage summer that saw us traverse the hazardous divide between the illusions of boyhood and the far more pernicious deceptions of maturity, et cetera.

Mostly because I’ve realized what a lame teenager I was. I was always home at the stroke of midnight; I didn’t like drinking mash; I didn’t have sex. I read books and had an inferiority complex because I was afraid to do all that other stuff. I don’t know anything about being a badass punk rocker.

Stacey muttered, "But I hate this school, and this city, and the sooner I leave, the better. I want to start over in a new place. I haven't . . ." her voice trailed off and she looked away from Jason, hoping instead to find her words among the falling raindrops. "Do you ever feel like you aren't the person you're supposed to be? That you could be a different person - and have a better life - if things had been just a little different?

Stay true to yourself and listen to your inner voice. It will lead you to your dream.

She glanced down at the pregnancy test. Her worst fear has become her new reality.

Teaching a boy to be a man is the primary job of a father.

The average adult hates being treated like a child, unless it suits them.

There's a girl calm people don't know about. It's a girl teen standstill. A motionless peace. It doesn't come from anywhere but inside us, and it only lasts for a few years. It's born from being a not woman yet. It's free flowing and invisible. It's the eye of the violent storm you call my teenage daughter. In this place we are undisturbed by all the moronic things you think about us. Our voices like rain falling. We are serene. Smooth. With more perfect hair and skin than you will ever again know. Daughters of Eve.

There are things you do when you are a teenager, or a dancer, or just a girl, I guess. You cut your food up in special ways, or you cut yourself, or paper dolls. You pretend that there is an invisible audience watching you all the time, and you do things to impress them or pretend that they didn't see what you just did because their live video feed was interrupted somehow. You steal things or tell lies or speak to strangers in a Russian accent. You have sex with someone you love, or with someone who gets you really drunk. You lie to your parents, your boyfriend, yourself, your therapist. You cheat on your homework or do other people's homework for money. You get up, you take class, you rehearse, you perform, you go to bed. How do you decided which of these things are truly crazy and which are just being alive?

There’s a wound most troubled boys share, which, at its core, comes from the feeling that they don’t have their father’s unconditional love.

There are people who believe in the basic goodness of human nature. I believe in the basic evil of human nature. ~ Aarush Kashyap

This is meant to be special, this is. I’m a teenager, I’ve just left my old school and I’m starting my new one in September, and I’m in some God forsaken hole in a rotten caravan with no friends and it’s my birthday.

The term "teenager" had not long been invented, and it never occured to him that the separateness he felt, which was both painful and delicious, could be shared by anyone else.

Wenner began a campaign to get his parents back together. Sim told her son she wanted him to call only every other week to reduce her phone bills. “Your demand that Dad and I be something to each other that we’re not, is basically a child’s demand,” she wrote to him in 1959, when Wenner was thirteen. “One stamps one’s foot and says, ‘Change the world and I will be all right!’ and it’s a nice comforting thought to have, but the world can’t be changed, families can’t be changed, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers…There is only one thing that can be changed, or rather, only one thing that you can change, and that is yourself.” (“Maternally yours,” she signed the letter.)

To be inspired is great, but to inspire is an honor.

Tombstones covered the dale, the smooth marble surfaces bright. She had spent days here as a teenager, though not out of any awareness of mortality. Like every adolescent, she intended to live forever.

What’s that around your neck?” asked Emily. “It’s a golden star.” Said Reed. “What did you get it for?” “Chemistry class.” “What’s the star for?” the shadow asked, Usually stars represent a straight A student. “You get it for having greatness. But Emily doesn’t know what that is.” He said, answering the shadows question and looking at Emily. “Greatness, what’s greatness?” Emily asked, all wide eyed, and clueless looking “It’s when you do really awesome stuff, and people recognize you for it.” “Oh, no” Emily laughed .”No, I don’t know what that is.