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

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

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.

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.

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.

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

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

Childhood knows what it wants—to leave childhood behind.

I’ve never understood why people consider youth a time of freedom and joy. It’s probably because they have forgotten their own.

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

Bright youth passes as quickly as thought.

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.