Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!
There's none of these so lonely and poor of old,
But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold.
These laid the world away: poured out the red
Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be
Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene
That men call age, and those who would have been
Their sons, they gave their immortality.
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Even the youngest of us may be wrong sometimes.
Even the youngest of us may be wrong sometimes.
To get back one's youth one has merely to repeat one's follies
To get back one's youth one has merely to repeat one's follies
Many people use their youth to make their old age miserable
Many people use their youth to make their old age miserable
Youth is not a time of life, it is a state of mind. You are as old as your doubt, read more
Youth is not a time of life, it is a state of mind. You are as old as your doubt, your fear, your despair. The way to keep young is to keep your faith young. Keep your self-confidence young. Keep your hope young.
People grow old only by deserting their ideals, Macarthur had written. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up read more
People grow old only by deserting their ideals, Macarthur had written. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up interest wrinkles the soul. You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear; as young as your hope as old as your despair. In the central place of every heart there is a recording chamber. So long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer and courage, so long are you young. When your heart is covered with the snows of pessimism and the ice of cynicism, then, and then only, are you grown old. And then, indeed as the ballad says, you just fade away.
Our youth we can have but to-day;
We may always find time to grow old.
Our youth we can have but to-day;
We may always find time to grow old.
Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise,
We love the play-place of our early days;
The read more
Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise,
We love the play-place of our early days;
The scene is touching, and the heart is stone,
That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.
And both were young, and one was beautiful.
And both were young, and one was beautiful.
Young people need models, not critics
Young people need models, not critics
