Childhood knows what it wants—to leave childhood behind.

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.

No one’s serious at seventeen.

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

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.

Grown up, and that is a terribly hard thing to do. It is much easier to skip it and go from one childhood to another.

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.

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

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

Youth, youth, springtime of beauty.

Even members of the nobility, let alone persons of no consequence, would do well not to have children. 

I shall soon be six-and-twenty. Is there anything in the future that can possibly console us for not being always twenty-five?

The young leading the young is like the blind leading the blind.