#young

Tragic tales rarely do make sense. ↗

— Gwenn Wright

#gothic #gwenn-wright #mystery #sadness #tragedy

All of us, whether guilty or not, whether old or young, must accept the past. It is not a case of coming to terms with the past. That is not possible. It cannot be subsequently modified or undone. ↗

— Richard von Weizsaecker

#cannot #case #coming #guilty #modified

Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now ↗

— Bob Dylan

#song-lyrics #young-at-heart #youthful-arrogance #life

It’s hard not to empathize with the mayor’s anger, given the injustices he’d suffered, but righteous anger rarely leads to wise policy. ↗

— Edward L. Glaeser

#coleman-young #detroit #injustice #policy #wisdom

Kevin looks at me and I know he isn’t seeing the little girl I use to be, all pigtails and gangly limbs. He isn’t seeing my mother’s daughter or even my mother anymore. As his eyes linger over me, stopping here and there in the most uncomfortable places, I know he isn’t really even seeing me as I am. The bloodshot eyes staring out of the alcohol-flushed face are seeing a girl, nearly of age, who owes him a tremendous debt of gratitude.--Rocky Evans ↗

— Gwenn Wright

#historical-fiction #love #romance #romantic-suspense #teens

Youth is a question of energy. ↗

— Vanessa Paradis

#attitude #energy #model #question #quote

The human body is the best work of art. ↗

— Jess C. Scott

#beauty #body #body-image #dancer #desire

When I was younger, many of my romantic escapades were just a means of simply avoiding being by myself. I was afraid of feeling lonely, afraid I wouldn't know what to say to myself. ↗

— Michael Zaslow

#avoiding #being #feeling #i #just

If the Devil says you cannot pray when you are angry, tell him it is none of his business, and pray until that species of insanity is dispelled and serenity is restored to the mind. (p. 175) ↗

— Brigham Young

#prayer #business

The festive music died down and the granite pillars were replaced with rotted wooden beams as he continued down the alleyways. The scent of fresh flowers turned to mold, and the colorful mosiacs of honor and nobility were nonexistent. Run-down tenements were shadowed by its surrounding buildings, as if the capital itself wanted to conceal its existence. ↗

— Evan Meekins

#fantasy-fiction #fiction #oppression #poverty #young-adult