I hope you come to find that which gives life a deep meaning for you . . . something worth living for, maybe even worth dying for . . . something that energizes you, enthuses you, enables you to keep moving ahead.
Most people . . . fix the prime of a man's life somewhere about thirty or thirty-five. Personally . . . I should place it at between fifteen and sixteen. It is then, it always seems to me, that his vitality is at its highest; he has greatest sense of the ludicrous and least sense of dignity. After that time, decay begins to set in. Possibly he attains to the "ungainly wisdom" of the Sixth Form and in that languorous atmosphere drinks deep of the opiate of specialization; possibly he attains to some abnormal form of muscular development and in his gyrations upon the football field loses his sense of the ludicrous; possibly he attains to an official position in the school and loses that still greater gift, his sense of humor.
Although I was sixteen years of age, and although I was treated with indulgence and affection, I was still but a bird fluttering in the network of my Father's will and incapable of the smallest independent action.