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.

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

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

Childhood knows what it wants—to leave childhood behind.

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

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

Childhood has no forebodings—but then, it is soothed by no memories of outlived sorrow.

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.

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

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 distinction between children and adults, while probably useful for some purposes, is at bottom a specious one, I feel. There are only individual egos, crazy for love.

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.