No time to marry, no time to settle down, I’m a young woman, and ain’t done runnin’ round.

There comes a time in every rightly constructed boy’s life when he has a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure.

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

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

A sick child is always the mother’s property; her own feelings generally make it so.

No wise man ever wished to be younger.

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.

Ah, there are no children nowadays.

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

Most men employ the first years of their life in making the last miserable.

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.

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

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