Give me those days with heart in riot, The depths of bliss that touched on pain, The force of hate, and love's disquiet- Ah, give me back my youth again!

Here in the city the worst thing that can happen to a nation has happened: we are a people afraid of its youth.

The teenager, an afterthought of social history, became a more genuine example of the "new man" than any of the calculated personalities which the Communists held up for emulation.

No young man believes he shall ever die.

Young people are thoughtless as a rule.

His story is the usual one of adolescence: endless tortures and temptations, insatiable desires, a satisfying rebellion and at rare moments an exhilarating freedom.

Youth, even in its sorrows, always has a brilliancy of its own.

A majority of young people seem to develop mental arteriosclerosis forty years before they get the physical kind.

Eyes fading. Embarrassed at any seriousness in me. Left outside I lose it all. My youth wasted on the bare period of my desires.

A riotous youth; There's little hope of him. That fault his age Will, as it grows, correct.