There is a fountain of youth: It is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring in your life and read more

There is a fountain of youth: It is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring in your life and the lives of people you love

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

The chief recommendation [in a young man] is modesty, then
dutiful conduct toward parents, then affection for kindred.
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The chief recommendation [in a young man] is modesty, then
dutiful conduct toward parents, then affection for kindred.
[Lat., Prima commendiato proficiscitur a modestia tum pietate in
parentes, tum in suos benevolentia.]

It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it.

It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it.

Olympian bards who sung
Divine ideas below,
Which always find us young
And always read more

Olympian bards who sung
Divine ideas below,
Which always find us young
And always keep us so.

Much education today is monumentally ineffective. All too often we are giving young people cut flowers when we should be read more

Much education today is monumentally ineffective. All too often we are giving young people cut flowers when we should be teaching them to grow their own plants.

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.

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...

Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!
There's none of these so lonely and poor of old,
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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.