Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Bobbled. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Bobbled Quotes And Sayings by 96 Authors including Lucille Ball,Jennifer Estep,Stephen King,Charles Dickens,Louisa May Alcott for you to enjoy and share.
You spell Bob Hope C-L-A-S-S.
Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy.
So exquisitely slopped that he didn't know if he was on land or at sea.
Shaggy wrapper, flapping hat, and muddy legs, was rather
Swept into the giddy vortex which keeps so many young people revolving aimlessly, till they go down or are cast upon the shore, wrecks of what they might have been
We lifted up and then bobbed.
"Back! Pull it back!" (Christopher)
"It's hard." (Kitty)
"The ground is harder!" (Christopher)
a furtive groove
But there was in the air that kind of distortion that bent you a little; it caused your usual self to grow slippery, to wander off and shop, to get blurry, bleed, bevel with possibility.
Had sunk into a sort of incoherence, used to begin one thing and go on with another, as though he were letting himself go altogether.
Stumbling is not falling.
What he needed was a metaphorical Bobbit job
The course of the flight up and down was exceedingly erratic, partly due to the irregularity of the air, and partly to lack of experience in handling this machine. The control of the front rudder was difficult on account of its being balanced too near the center.
The party blundered helplessly across the sky like a man leaning against an unexpectedly open door. It spun and wobbled on its hover jets. It tried to right itself and wronged itself instead.
His cock swung from side to side like the pendulum of a grandfather clock on speed.
Barrage balloons dotted the sky like blind whales bobbing around in the wrong element.
He dribbled noise.
Zigzag... don't bunch up. Weave like a drunk on New Year's... Got it?
We were wavering around like a ship without a sail.
I feel like I've been sliding all day.
What's shaking, Gatorbait?
I dance. I ripple. I am thrown over you like a net of light. I lie quivering flung over you.
He fell like a marionette with the strings cut. Now!
wreck but Trot Nixon's fair ball nestled in his glove.
The bus's wipers slapped out of synch, like poorly rehearsed ballroom dancers, arms of a neophyte swimmer dogpaddling, wobbling grocery-cart wheel and its unencumbered mate.
As usual, I overdreamed and underbudgeted. . .
They stumble that run fast.
He woke from a dream in which Edith raised her arms to him, the liquid gold of her hair tumbling almost to her waist. 'Ah, darling,' he had been telling her, 'I am looped in the loops of your hair.' Had he said that aloud? He would never do something so imbecilic. He really had lost his mind.
Languidly, like an actor repeating a stale part. Anna
In midair, dangling lost above the world.
The answer is blowin' in the wind.
Did I just say bounce? Hello, the nineties want their phrase back.
I didn't bounce, I coughed," said Tigger crossly.
"Bouncy or coffy, it's all the same at the bottom of the river.
They bobbed back and forth, little Halloween apples.
I danced along a colored wind/ Dangled from a rope of sand
the brogue tripping from his tongue like a slashed wineskin.
Drizzt swung a long and heavy halberd, a polearm more than twice his height, in a slow arc. For all of Drizzt's attempts to keep the weapon under control, its momentum spun his tiny frame right to the ground.
misbegotten cockwaffle.
In the meantime, Bob was jumping up and down and pronouncing it was all "good good good," so good that he couldn't stop giggling with self-satisfied glee like a demented toddler.
He put his foot on one pedal, scooted a few yards and swung his other leg over the saddle. He soared left into the vertiginously sloping hillside road and sped, without touching his brakes ... The hedgerows and sky blurred; he imagined himself in a velodrome as the wind whipped his hair clean ...
wandered. Such has been my common
One of the floral arrangements swayed like a drunken sailor, then toppled, clattering to the floor.
It is better to have bounced and bumped than never to have bounced at all.
skidded the elegant white speedboat skilfully through the
The pair of legs that carried him were rickety, and there was a bias in his gait which inclined him somewhat to the left of a straight line.
Atop their gleaming backs the jockeys look like gaudy baubles, secured with strings. They bob up and down, they rise, lean forward, then settle again.
Dinted
dimpled wimpled
his mind wandered down echoing corridors of
assonance and alliteration ever further and further from the
point. He was enamoured with the beauty of words.
It was a bird. A bird struggling through stickiness: a bird coated in paint, floundering in its nest, splashing color everywhere.
Red. Red. Red.
Dozens of them: black feathers coated thickly with crimson-colored paint, fluttering among the branches.
Red means run.
I think that I'm throwing but I'm thrown
Off the tilting world like thread off a
more smoothly than you have done this
It rose slowly like a gull sensing a reckless blue fish to close to the surface, and then it dived relentlessly for the green, kicked and stopped three feet short of the flag.
measured his own length in the Flemish mud and skidded forward, all elbows and knees; then he jerked erect again, breathless, desperate and angered, at the heart of a sudden
Stand firm, don't flutter!
Bob Davis has his hair differently this year, short with curls like Randy Jones wears. I think you call it a Frisbee.
way it sounded, scraping and scuffling
Words strain, Crack and sometimes break, under the burden, Under the tension, slip, slide, perish, Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place, Will not stay still.
it was sucking fall to the ground, and it
Once again, there was talk of winning every game, and once again, we proved to be human, because an oblong ball takes funny bounces.
Always slightly off balance. It was a new sensation for him.
She seemed to bounce through life like Tigger;
The word rattled in my head like rocks in an oatmeal box.
He fell off the table like a crab looking for the sea.
Precarious, life is. A flying leap. A sweep of hand. A star flung across the night. A lucky catch in this whirling juggling circus act.
From Steam Drills, Treadmills, and Shooting Stars
stopped: a final swish in the tall grass
I flutter all ways, and fly in none.
But it wasn't just the pace that made them feel suspended, like they were doing little more than drifting. It was the odd feeling that they'd been set loose into the world with nothing - and no on - left to reel them back again.
I would like to apologize for the rocking of this boat, but we are currently being humped by a whale.
As though it had come to the top of the hill and gone over a precipice,
I've been reduced to drag.
A wild, wick slip she was
He tossed a word like a ball, never letting it fall. Instead it swam in the air, without care, strung together with an art that came straight from his heart.
Wriggled to avoid the lump that always seemed directly under
Burckhardt fumbled through his notes. "Dakin and
Mischief Managed.
poorly. Then I fell
With little wit and ease to suit them, They whirl in narrow circling trails, Like kittens playing with their tails.
lurches forward like a charging rhino,
The short, fat fingers moved like dancing sausages across the strings;
We start to sway again. We're not actually dancing, just rocking side to side. Not moving forward or backward. Just moving.
Like most of our time together, we're treading water.
Trying not to drown.
Confused and Stunned, like a duck hit on the head.
I rambled all the time. I was just like that, like a rollin' stone.
Pudge was quivering like a weeble toy likely to topple over any second
The track lingered on the surface like a long pale scar. In maritime vernacular, this trail of fading disturbance, whether from ship or torpedo, was called a dead wake.
I used to ask my brother Rudy to throw rocks at me. I'd dodge every one. That's how I learned how to bob and weave: ducking rocks.
The entire time we playing, the current had gently moved us downstream with the tide. We were drifting the whole time and never realized it until we couldn't find our way back.
Bob exploded. 'There is no such thing as a casual conversation with my mother. Every single word will be twisted recognition until before you know it you're playing Russian roulette in a wind tunnel with a psychotic dwarf, having wagered your birthright for a piece of cheese ...
When the life is wavy, keep your mind smooth!
This is a time for serious people, Bob, and your fifteen minutes are up.
untrammelled flow
Like a silly amateur sailor I have drifted into very deep water.
I was loosened, a top whirling around and around, and I didn't know who I danced with or what they looked like, only that I had become the music and the fire and the night, and there was nothing that could slow me down.
My body floated, loose from spent pleasure.
His voice gave out and he made several wavy motions with his hand, indicative of the shape of a woman who would probably be unable to keep her balance.
My spirit shook its always-fettered wings half loose;
Eddies of dry wind whipped tatters of cloth and reed paper about in dancing circles.
I assume my stance, and take back the club, low, slowly; at the top, my eyes fog over, and my joints dip and swirl like barn swallows, I swing. There is a fruitless commotion of dust and rubber at my feet. "Smothered it," I say promptly. After enough lessons the terminology becomes second nature.
Well, I would say that I'm just drifting. Here in the pool.
Those who skim over the surface in a hit-or-miss fashion not only forfeit the best returns on their efforts, but are ever barred from the keen pleasure of seeing beauty in the results of their labor.
The box was nearly finished now, she thought, although it moved so quickly, in the padded claws, that it was difficult to see ... Abruptly, it floated free, tumbling end over end, and she sprang for it instinctively, caught it, and went tumbling past the flashing arms, her treasure in her arms.
He swung around. His body, bathed in the first rays of the sun, was stippled
with color like a stained glass saint.