In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of — James Thurber
Download Customize

In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of manhood. After this most inconsolable of sorrows there is nothing life can do to him that he will not be able somehow to bear.

— James Thurber
Pin Share Tweet Telegram
Topics
adulthood dogs grief growing up manhood pets

More “Adulthood” Quotes

You are young," said my father. "You won't get any younger even if you clean your teeth twice a day.""You'll get older," — Jeanette Winterson, The Powerbook
Church is not about learning how to be a moral person (though that is what the dominant narrative they hear tells them) — it is a place where immoral individuals go in order to receive the grace of God.
He started writing poetry again, but it didn't come as easily. It was hard now to get past the self-consciousness - the — B.J. Novak, One More Thing: Stories and Other Stories
He was still a kid inside. His body had grown, stretched, towered, tanned its skin, hardened its muscle, darkened its ta — Ray Bradbury
It's strange how in childhood it feels like tomorrow won't come until the end of forever, but in adulthood it feels like — Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes
Young people must appreciate the beauty of old age. The old people were once young. — Lailah Gifty Akita
Treasure the beauty of youthful life and the wisdom of adulthood. — Lailah Gifty Akita
When you're finally a grown-up, one of the things you find is that there are no grown-ups. — Charles Finch, The Last Enchantments
Like everyone I slipped into adulthood like a delinquent through the back door. — Charles Finch, The Last Enchantments
They had entered the thorny wilderness, and the golden gates of their childhood had for ever closed behind them. — George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss
The period of time between eligibility to vote and the start of adulthood is a window of opportunity that the liberals a — Mike Klepper
The adult world may seem a cold and empty place, with no fairies and no Father Christmas, no Toyland or Narnia, no Happy — Richard Dawkins, Unweaving the Rainbow: Science, Delusion and the Appetite for Wonder