The Youth

Youth is not entirely a time of life- it is a state of mind. It is not wholly a matter of ripe cheeks, red lips or supple knees. It is a temper of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions, a freshness of the deep springs of life. It means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity, of an appetite for adventure over love of case.
Nobody grows old by merely living a number of years. People grow old only by deserting their ideals. Years may wrinkles the soul. Worry, doubt , self-distrust, fear and despair these are the long, long years that how the head and turn the growing spirit back to dust.
Whatever your years, there is in every beings heart the love of wonder, the undaunted challenge of events the unfailing child like appetite for what's next, and the joy and game of life. You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young as yourself - confidence, as old as you, 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 the wires are all down and your heart is covered with the snows of pessimism and the ice of cynicism , then, and then only are you grown old.
Youth is the virgin morning, the bedtime of life;it's the fresh immaculate clouds, the dazzling expanding sun, the cool silvery moon upon which a child's slight in focused with woman and fascination.
Youth is the first dance you have had, the first stealthy date, the nervous kiss. It's passion burning like fire. It's holding hands in semi-private room and talking with your eyes because mere words have miserable failed. It's tossing in bed, numbering stolen scenes and sleepless night. It's the first reluctant parting between young lovers. It's possessiveness and jealousy and petty quarrels.