Maturity is a bitter disappointment for which no remedy exists, unless laughter could be said to remedy anything.

But as with so many things in our lives, the reason for doing something is not the important thing. It is the fact of doing that remains.

"For us to move forward stop comparing yourself to others instead compare yourself from your past"

If youth is the season of hope, it is often so only in the sense that our elders are hopeful about us; for no age is so apt as youth to think its emotions, partings, and resolves are the last of their kind. Each crisis seems final, simply because it is new.

Written By George Eliot

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