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.

No wise man ever wished to be younger.

Youth, youth, springtime of beauty.

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

Childhood knows what it wants—to leave childhood behind.

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

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.

No one’s serious at seventeen.

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 boy is, of all wild beasts, the most difficult to manage. 

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

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

Ah, there are no children nowadays.