Youth, youth, springtime of beauty.

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

Bright youth passes as quickly as thought.

Childhood knows what it wants—to leave childhood behind.

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

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

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

No one’s serious at seventeen.

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

No wise man ever wished to be younger.

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

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.