Having a thirteen-year-old in the family is like having a general-admission ticket to the movies, radio and TV. You get to understand that the glittering new arts of our civilization are directed to the teen-agers, and by their suffrage they stand or fall.

Does everyone turn into a truculent thirteen-year-old when they go home, or is it just me?

…I’m thirteen years old, and I think I’m at the crossroads of my life. I’ve got to make good between now and the time I’m twenty, and I have only seven years to do it in. Besides, I’m the father of my family and I’ve got to earn all the money I can.

My parents still treat Christmas like I’m thirteen years old.

I love Prada. Not so much the clothes, which are for malnourished thirteen-year-olds, but I covet, with covety covetousness, the shoes and handbags. Like, I LOVE them. If I was given a choice between world peace and a Prada handbag, I’d dither. (I’m not proud of this, I’m only saying.)

I came face to face with death at thirteen years old.

She had the underwear of a thirteen-year-old, as well, he thought. He glanced back at her. But the shoes of a courtesan.

it seems to me that later on neither I nor anyone else will be interested in the musings of a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl.

I’ve always been interested in directing. I started acting when I was thirteen years old, so I’ve had some desire to do something else in my life.

I was a thirteen-year-old boy for thirty years.

It’s my heart that is tired. A thirteen-year-old heart shouldn’t feel like this.

Sometimes I feel that a more rational explanation for all that has happened during my lifetime is that I am still only thirteen years old, reading Jules Verne or H. G. Wells, and have fallen asleep.

I put my friends and family first. I’m really just a normal thirteen-year-old girl who has a different hobby than most girls my age. Acting is kind of an extracurricular activity.

In the early 90s, I wrote a play called Word of Mouth in which I played a number of different characters. One was a thirteen-year-old boy who, through a series of diary entries, realizes that hes gay.

Your ideal possession candidate‘s a thirteen-year-old recently orphaned schizophrenic girl three days away from her period on her way to see the shrink with whom she‘s romantically besotted.

Dan,” she said. “I’m worried about him. It’s not right that a thirteen-year-old knows as much as he does bout stealing things.” ” You’re right,” Jake said. “He should have been at least sixteen like you before he became part of an international crime ring.

I’ve been able to go so many places. I had the opportunity to go to Hong Kong when I was thirteen years old which is crazy. I lived there for three months. It was amazing. I couldn’t ask for a more enriched life so far.

I was born in Massachusetts and lived there until I was thirteen years old.

It was at thirteen years old that Marya Morevna learned how to keep a secret, and that secrets are jealous things, permitting no fraternization.

Writing in a diary is a really strange experience for someone like me. Not only because I’ve never written anything before, but also because it seems to me that later on neither I nor anyone else will be interested in the musings of a thirteen-year old school girl. Oh well, it doesn’t matter. I feel like writing.

I became involved in photography when I was about thirteen years old.

He had total love in his eyes when he performed. He was the total androgenous beauty. I would practice Elvis in front of the mirror when I was twelve or thirteen years old.