FastSaying
The shades of night were falling fast, / As through an Alpine village passed / A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, / A banner with the strange device, / Excelsior!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Night
Snow
Youth
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Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow.
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To be 70 years old is like climbing the Alps. You reach a snow-crowned summit, and see behind you the deep valley stretching miles and miles away, and before you other summits higher and whiter, which you may have strength to climb, or may not. Then
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Youth comes but once in a lifetime
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A boy's will is the wind's will, / And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.
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Will
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Ah! what would the world be to us If the children were no more? We should dread the desert behind us Worse than the dark before.
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Children / youth