Ask the young. They know everything.

The passions of the young are vices in the old.

Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.

Youth is the time to go flashing from one end of the world to the other… to try the manners of different nations; to hear the chimes at midnight; to see the sunrise in town and country; to be converted at a revival; to circumnavigate the metaphysics, write halting verses, run a mile to see a fire, and wait all day long in the theatre to applaud Hernani.

For God's sake give me the young man who has brains enough to make a fool of himself!

So different are the colors of life, as we look forward to the future, or backward to the past; and so different the opinions and sentiments which this contrariety of appearance naturally produces, that the conversation of the old and young ends generally with contempt or pity on either side.

Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age?

We live in an age when to be young and to be indifferent can be no longer synonymous. We must prepare for the coming hour. The claims of the Future are represented by suffering millions; and the Youth of a Nation are the trustees of Posterity.

It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who has lost it.

It is all that the young can do for the old, to shock them and keep them up to date.