Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
Age is foolish and forgetful when it underestimates youth.
Youth is like a fickle girlfriend. We can’t understand or value her until she goes off with someone else, never to return…
What do most people mean when they say that? So young. Something innocent, something appealing, something helpless. But youth is not that! Youth is crude, youth is strong, youth is powerful – yes, and cruel! And one thing more – youth is vulnerable.
Though the Jazz Age continued, it became less and less an affair of youth. The sequel was like a children’s party taken over by the elders, leaving the children puzzled and rather neglected and rather taken aback.
The wine of youth does not always clear with advancing years; oftentimes it grows turbid.
How absurd to call youth the time of happiness – youth, the time of greatest vulnerability!
Youthful cynicism is sad to observe, because it indicates not so much knowledge learned from bitter experiences as insufficient trust even to attempt the future.
Youth offers the promise of happiness, but life offers the realities of grief.
Youth must be wanton, youth must be quick, dance to the candle while lasteth the wick.
Youth is when you’re allowed to stay up late on New Year’s Eve. Middle age is when you’re forced to.
Youth is the time when hearts are large.
