Grow old along with me The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made Our times are in his hand who saith, A whole I planned, Youth shows but half trust God See all, nor be afraid
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The pure, the bright, The beautiful that stirred our hearts in youth, The impulses to wordless prayer, The streams of love and truth, The longing after something lost, The spirit's yearning cry, The striving after better hopes; These things can never die. The timid hand stretched forth to aid a brother in his need, A kindly word in grief's dark hour that proves a friend indeed; The plea for mercy softly breathed, When justice threatens high, The sorrow of a contrite heart; These things shall never die, shall never die. Let nothing pass, For every hand must find some work to do, Lose not a chance to waken love. Be firm and just and true, So shall a light that cannot fade beam on thee from on high, And angel voices say to thee; These things can never die.
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Our dead brothers still live for us and bid us think of life, not death -- of life to which in their youth they lent the passion and glory of Spring. As I listen, the great chorus of life and joy begins again, and amid the awful orchestra of seen and unseen powers and destinies of good and evil, our trumpets, sound once more a note of daring, hope, and will.
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The shades of night were falling fast,As though an Alpine village passedA youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,A banner with the strange device,ExcelsiorHis brow was sad his eye beneath,Flashed like a falchion from its sheath,And like a silver clarion rungThe accents of that unknown tongue,Excelsior
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Many are our joysIn youth, but oh! what happiness to liveWhen every hour brings palpable accessOf knowledge, when all knowledge is delight,And sorrow is not there!
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The duty of youth is to challenge corruption.
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Endure what life God gives and ask no longer span; Cease to remember the delights of youth, travel-wearied aged man;...
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It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it.
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Nor youth, nor strength, nor wisdom spring again, Nor habitations long their names retain, But in oblivion to the final day remain.
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When I can look life in the eyes, grown calm and very coldly wise, life will have given me the truth, and taken in exchange -- my youth.
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Age is opportunity no less than youth itself.
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I've never understood why people consider youth a time of freedom and joy. It's probably because they have forgotten their own.
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Use your youth so that you may have comfort to remember it when it has forsaken you, and not sigh and grieve at the account thereof.
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Youth is the best time to be rich, and the best time to be poor.
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To be young is all there is in the world. They talk so beautifully about work and having a family and a home (and I do, too, sometimes) --but it's all worry and head-aches and respectable poverty and forced gushing. Telling people how nice it is, when, in reality, you would give all of your last thirty years for one of your first thirty. Old people are tremendous frauds.
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When you have really exhausted an experience you always reverence and love it. The two things that nearly all of us have thoroughly and really been through are childhood and youth. And though we would not have them back again on any account, we feel that they are both beautiful, because we have drunk them dry.
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A youth is to be regarded with respect. How do you know that his future will not be equal to our present?
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A tide began to surge beneath the calm surface of Stephen's friendliness. This race and this country and this life produced me, he said. I shall express myself as I am. Try to be one of us, repeated Davin. In your heart you are an Irishman but your pride is too powerful. My ancestors threw off their language and took another, Stephen said. They allowed a handful of foreigners to subject them. Do you fancy that I am going to pay in my own life and person debts they made? What for? For our freedom, said Davin. No honourable and sincere man, said Stephen, has given up to you his life and his youth and his affections from the days of Wolfe Tone to those of Parnell, but you sold him to the enemy or failed him in need or reviled him and left him for another. And you invite me to be one of you. I'd see you damned first. They died for their ideals, Stevie, said Davin. Our day will come yet, believe me. Stephen, following his own thought, was silent for an instant... When the soul of a man is born in this country there are nets flung to hold it back from flight. You talk to me of nationality, language, religion. I shall try to fly by those nets ... Ireland is the old sow that eats her farrow.
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Tutors who make youth learned do not always make them virtuous.
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The forward Youth that would appear Must now forsake his Muses dear, Nor in the Shadows sing His Numbers languishing.
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That is the way of youth and life in general: that we do not understand the strategy until after the campaign is over.
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To be happy in this world, especially when youth is past, it is necessary to feel oneself not merely an isolated individual whose day will soon be over, but part of the stream of life slowing on from the first germ to the remote and unknown future.
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... everyone young going down the long slide To happiness, endlessly.
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Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childhood days, recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth, and transport the traveler back to his own fireside and quiet home! by
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Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; for in my youth I never did apply hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; and did not, with unbashful forehead, woo the means of weakness and debility: therefore my age is as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly.
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There is a place in God's sun for the youth 'farthest down' who has the vision, the determination, and the courage to reach it.
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Remember youth as you pass by,
As you was once, so once was I,
As I am now, you soon will be,
Prepare to die and follow me
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Childhood: the period of human life intermediate between the idiocy of infancy and the folly of youth - two removes from the sin of manhood and three from the remorse of age.
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Youth is something very new twenty years ago no one mentioned it.
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The heads of strong old age are beautiful beyond all grace of youth.
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