Quotes about Youth

The psychological and physiological mechanism of love is so complex that at a certain period in his life a young man must concentrate all his energy on coming to grips with it, and in this way he misses the actual content of the love: the woman he loves. (In this he is much like a young violinist who cannot concentrate on the emotional content of a piece until the technique required to play it comes automatically.)

Lucie had been many things to me: a child, a source of comfort, a balm, an escape from myself; she was literaly everything for me but a woman.

A young woman forced to keep drunks supplied with beer and siblings with clean underwear -instead of being allowed to pursue something higher- stores up great reserves of vitality, a vitality never dreamed of by university students yawning over their books.

How would I explain to him that I couldn't make peace with him? How would I explain that if I did I would immediately lose my inner balance? How would I explain that one of the arms of my internal scales would suddenly shoot upward? How would I explain that my hatred of him counterbalanced the weight of evil that had fallen on my youth? How would I explain that he embodied all the evils in my life? How would I explain to him that I needed to hate him?

The genius of lyric poetry is the genius of inexperience.

He is precisely the young man to fall headlong in love and repent it for the rest of his life.

I'm not good at a lot of things. I am not good at keeping my room clean. I am not good at eating healthy. I am not good at sports anymore. I used to be! Not so much anymore.

But bit by bit as I got to know Yugoslavia better, I became aware of the slow wearing-down process the government was exerting on Christians. The effort seemed to be centered on the children. Leave the old folks alone, but wean the young people away from the church.

The long-drawn virgin vales; the mild blue hill-sides; as over these there steals the hush, the hum; you almost swear that play-wearied children lie sleeping in these solitudes, in some glad May-time, when the flowers of the woods are plucked. And all this mixes with your most mystic mood; so that fact and fancy, half-way meeting, interpenetrate, and form one seamless whole.

Life folded Death; Death trellised Life; the grim god wived with youthful Life, and begat him curly-headed glories. Now

Youth must its ignorant impulse lend-- Age finds place in the rear. All wars are boyish and are fought by boys

Life folded Death; Death trellised Life; the grim god wived with youthful Life, and begat him curly-headed glories.