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

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

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

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.

Ah, there are no children nowadays.

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.

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.

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.

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

Childhood knows what it wants—to leave childhood behind.

Youth, youth, springtime of beauty.