Childhood knows what it wants—to leave childhood behind.

Youth, youth, springtime of beauty.

No wise man ever wished to be younger.

I was born at a very early age. Before I had time to regret it, I was four and a half years old.

Blessed are the young, for they shall inherit the national debt.

Bright youth passes as quickly as thought.

I’ve never understood why people consider youth a time of freedom and joy. It’s probably because they have forgotten their own.

Youth is the time to go flashing from one end of the world to the other both in mind and body, to try the manners of different nations, to hear the chimes at midnight.

The young man must store up, the old man must use.

The young always have the same problem—how to rebel and conform at the same time. They have now solved this by defying their elders and copying one another.

The thing that impresses me most about America is the way parents obey their children.

A dissolute and intemperate youth hands down the body to old age in a worn-out state.

Rejoice, young man, while you are young, and let your heart cheer you in the days of your youth. Follow the inclination of your heart and the desire of your eyes, but know that for all these things God will bring you into judgment.