Smiling always with a never fading serenity of countenance, and
flourishing in an immortal youth.

Smiling always with a never fading serenity of countenance, and
flourishing in an immortal youth.

Every youth owes it to himself and to the world to make the most possible out of the stuff that read more

Every youth owes it to himself and to the world to make the most possible out of the stuff that is in him...

A young Apollo, golden haired,
Stands dreaming on the verge of strife,
Magnificently unprepared
read more

A young Apollo, golden haired,
Stands dreaming on the verge of strife,
Magnificently unprepared
For the long littleness of life.

In youth we learn; in age we understand.

In youth we learn; in age we understand.

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the read more

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning,
We will remember them.

Youth is to all the glad reason of life; but often only by what
it hopes, not by what read more

Youth is to all the glad reason of life; but often only by what
it hopes, not by what it attains, or what it escapes.

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.

Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy read more

Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.

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.