Quotes About Maturity

You move through Shame and Guilt and must ultimately redefine your sense of what it means to be a mature, confident, competent woman, even if after treatment you are still somewhat messy, disorganized, or forgetful. For me, it means I have learned to value myself as a creative woman who will never match some culturally sanctioned image I may have internalized a long time ago about what a woman should be or be able to do.

When I think of myself at 15, even 17, I could simply not have done this work on an international level and travel all the time, take care of myself and not feel lost. I feel very happy that this is happening now, and not 10 years ago, as I feel stronger as a person.

You can spend the entire second half of your life recovering from the mistakes of the first half.

We are not here concerned with people who profess the democratic faith but yearn for the dark security of dependency where they can be spared the burden of decisions. Reluctant to grow up, or incapable of doing so, they want to remain children and be cared for by others. Those who can, should be encouraged to grow; for the others, the fault lies not in the system but in themselves.

Only when I turned thirty did I finally feel for the first time that I was free, that I could live as I liked, as an individual. It's as if at thirty, I'd been born for the first time. Until then, I was never more than someone's tool.

The first forty years of our life give the text, the next thirty furnish the commentary upon it, which enables us rightly to understand the true meaning and connection of the text with its moral and its beauties.

If you lead an active intellectual and emotional life, your ideas will grow with you.

Taking responsibility, even for failures, is always a growth opportunity.

We all suffer wounds in our childhoods. We do what we have to do to protect ourselves, but we forget when we become adults that the armor made to survive our youth no longer serves us. It's for use in the last war, the struggles of childhood, not the war or the peace of the present and the future. Keeping that armor keeps us immature. We can't grow with it on. Yet removing it is painful. Taking it off means our true selves will be revealed.

I call this the challenge of indifference. As we grow up we're taught self-control, how to focus ourselves, and how to tune out things that are "wrong" or "juvenile" or "wastes of time." We become indifferent to the whims of the child mind, trading it in for suits and resumes—the tools of success in the adult world.

I wish I was older. And that I knew more than I do.

Weeping is the emotion of middle age. Once you get to your forties, no joy fails to remind you of its opposite, or its cost, or those not present to share it; no sorrow fails to get its due. To weep is to be human, to be alive, to have grown up.

Enlightenment is man's exit from his self-incurred immaturity. Immaturity is the inability to make use of one's intellect without the direction of another…. 'Sapere aude! (Dare to know!)' … 'Have the courage to make use of your own intellect!' is hence the motto of enlightenment" (Kant 1784/2006, 17).

Advice," Doña Vorchenza chuckled. "Advice. The years play a sort of alchemical trick, transmuting one's mutterings to a state of respectability. Give advice at forty and you're a nag. Give it at seventy and you're a sage.

I'm not as reckless as I used to be. You know, when I was little.

Maybe the one real advantage to getting older is that you have the time to pull your head a little bit farther out of your ass.

Age has a way of exagerrating the physical traits of those who live to feel its strains; the round tend to grow rounder, and the slim tend to waste away.

The years play a sort of alchemical trick, transmuting one's mutterings to a state of respectability. Give advice at forty and you're a nag. Give it at seventy and you're a sage.

Age has a way of exaggerating the physical traits of those who live to feel its strains; the

Give advice at forty and you're a nag. Give it at seventy and you're a sage.

Advice," chuckled Doña Vorchenza. "The years play a sort of alchemical trick, transmuting one's mutterings to a state of respectability. Give advice at forty and you're a nag. Give it at seventy and you're a sage.

You've reached that certain age where many boys seem to just sort of fold up their better judgment and set it aside for a few years.

People may be impressed with this celebrated personality or that evangelical icon, but the evangelical luminary doesn't have a clue about your church, what they need, and what God wants you to communicate to them as they move toward maturity in Christ. And that's good!

Q: What is the best thing about being a hundred? A: No peer pressure.