Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Staggered. 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 Staggered Quotes And Sayings by 94 Authors including Marianne Moore,Brandon Sanderson,Beatrix Potter,Robert A. Roskind,M. M. for you to enjoy and share.
[The] whirlwind fife-and-drum of the storm bends the salt marsh grass, disturbs stars in the sky and the star on the steeple; it is a privilege to see so much confusion.
A man can only stumble for so long before he either falls or stands up straight.
I am worn to a raveling.
scat to rock steady
Indescribably delirious!
Your task is to stand straight; not to be held straight.
I come fresh from the street, fast on my feet, kind a lean and lazy; not much meat on my bones, and a whole lot alone, and more than a little bit crazy. The old six string was all I had to keep my belly still, and for each full hour lesson I gave I got a crisp ten dollar bill.
Amidst the crowd, tumbling like a stone, although lying on the roads, I'm but a life.
How do you look when I'm sober?
Neat little rectangular arrangements of suffering. His
You lethargic, waiting upon me,
waiting for the fire and I
attendant upon you, shaken by your beauty
Shaken by your beauty
Shaken.
Shaken and not stirred.
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.
Languidly, like an actor repeating a stale part. Anna
My spelling is Wobbly. It's good spelling but it Wobbles, and the letters get in the wrong places.
so well coordinated
Plank to base. I require urgent backup. Repeat. Urgent backup. Am knackered. Repeat. Knackered. And can you pick me up a bag of ready salted crisps on the way? Repeat. Ready salted crisps. Urgent. Over.
Somehow I have been stunned. Stand back!
Give me a little time beyond my cuffed head and slumbers
and dreams and gaping,
I discover myself on the verge of the usual mistake.
Like chaos in a glass cage.
Confused and Stunned, like a duck hit on the head.
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.
So exquisitely slopped that he didn't know if he was on land or at sea.
I'm drunk-nonsensical tired out.
a handful of crumpled stars
When you're corked...you're corked!
This is the great fault of wine; it first trips up the feet: it is a cunning wrestler.
You stuttered like a kaleidoscope, because you knew too many words.
sometimes stood up and speared, and
when you lose your sails, row.
Firm; but my hopes fluctuate, and my spirits are often
I stepped from plank to plank So slow and cautiously; The stars about my head I felt, About my feet the sea. I knew not but the next Would be my final inch, - This gave me that precarious gait Some call experience.
I'm a little bit drifty. I'm a little bit all over the place.
Sieges weathered.
I'm pissed like this rutting beast can't conceive - I'm a lifetime of pissed, of strong, of muscle built over bruise, I'm slick with power and feel the fight as it changes ...
As it flows ...
... Everything into place, perfect, and I finally do what I was born to do.
I slay.
Stretched and skewed
Tap of the 8-ball and the cue
Scratches fall through
They are the scars of you
stuttering over your words.
The world balanced on the edge of a knife, slipping, slipping, slipping.
Bent
like the branches of a tree
broken
like the pieces of my heart
cracked
like the seventeenth moon
shattered
like the glass in the window
the day we met
If I know the way home and am walking along it drunkenly, is it any less the right way because I am staggering from side to side!
All of my own impulses to balance and move seemed to conflict with those of the guards, and I was jerked and jostled down the portico, just as graceful as a sick cat.
sleeping sprawled out on the bed
The grass was tall and parched, the limbs of the trees barren or else dotted with a few remaining leaves, the stragglers, bleached to the color of bone. They lifted in the breeze like waving hands, rustling like old paper.
The exhibition of real strength is never grotesque. Distortion is the agony of weakness. It is the dislocated mind whose movements are spasmodic.
Mark Hughes crossed every I and dotted every T.
I've gone out on limbs, flung far, and Forrest-Gumped my way into the center of the action.
My mind is reeling.
With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded.
As dizzy as the stars, as near and alone.
My fingers darted, then danced, then flew. I played hard as a hailstorm, like a hammer beating brass. I played soft as sun on autumn wheat, gentle as a single stirring leaf.
Waiting. Time in its pod. Blown open and scattered.
It was one thing to wake up feeling like I'd just been put through the puree stage of a blender- it was another to wake up feeling like I'd just been put though the puree stage of a blender to county music.
As I string, a swift rhythm is played out with my hands, a cadence known only to those who have strung tobacco. To many of the poor workers, the meter and rhythm of stringing tobacco is the only poetry they've ever known.
Wafted by a favouring gale
As one sometimes is in trances,
To a height that few can scale,
Save by long and weary dances
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.
Hauled up our wine-casks, and hove them overboard, tied one to the other by a long line. Then the crew took to the boats and rowed shorewards, singing as they went, and drawing after them the long bobbing procession of casks, like
poorly. Then I fell
screwed blued and tattooed
It was dizzying - cause and effect, round and round, stretching back to the source.
Hesitated; swooped again; hesitated again; swooped once more
Wandering and confused, lost to myself, ill-assorted, contradictory, Pausing, gazing, bending, and stopping
You gotta know when to hold em' and you gotta know when to fold em'!
Ragtime plinking, glasses clinking, choruses getting sung with only half the lyrics right, giggles bubbling over like a tower of champagne.
It's a party, shaking down the dawn.
So now get up.'
Felled, dazed, silent, he has fallen; knocked full length on the cobbles of the yard. His head turns sideways; his eyes are turned toward the gate, as if someone might arrive to help him out. One blow, properly placed, could kill him now.
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.
Legs pinched together like bread loafs in a shared pan, linebackers in adjacent seats flying coach fare, chubby cats eating from a single dish.
Categories No. 1 and No. 2: Rolled-up trips and three cards to a low straight flush.
... one of those terrifying rows where suddenly an end you never thought would come rears up in front of you, like a cliff edge you weren't aware of.
Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!
The turmoil of the day freezes in a thousand absurd postures.
Whack 'em, stack 'em and pack 'em.
Life has changed into a timeless succession of shocks, interspaced with empty, paralysed intervals.
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.
Is he dancing or having a seizure?
I am hanging in the balance of a perfect finished plan, like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.
I was so drunk last night I fell down and missed the floor.
You slide so good with bones so fair, you've got the universe reclining in your hair ...
Blast-Ended Skrewts for a walk than
A wind picked up, rattling the windows, and the candle flames suddenly shifted, dancing along the border between turbulence and order.
Disarray as they were pulled to their feet by their escorts. We
What's shaking, Gatorbait?
I'm all over the place.
Thus began a break of undetermined length and meaning.
doing with the puzzled
Stretched our legs, shook ourselves awake. The night
Buttered, I lie on my single bed, flat, like a piece of toast. I
Even the air between them seemed to be dented, waiting to be straightened again.
Trials and half a dozen smaller
Literally and figuratively. Balance is important to you
I shall lie folded like a saint,
Lapped in a scented linen sheet,
On a bedstead striped with bright-blue paint,
Narrow and cold and neat.
A dance to the music of time.
ruins." A flush spread up
I warn the marauder dragging plunder, chaotic, rich beyond all rights: he'll strike his sails, harried at long last, stunned when the squalls of torment break his spars to bits.
When every piece falls into place, it's like a dance, a delicate but powerful balancing act. The art of holding on and letting go at the same time.
The answer almost unmanned me.
The music folded over itself like batter being poured from a bowl, one note atop another ...
The time is out of joint.
Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.
A wild, wick slip she was
I reel in an uncanny intoxication of emotions, on minute bewildered and then frightened then the next, I swing from exhaustion to mania, from depression to tranquility and beneath it all, excitement fizzes as if my blood is filled with gas.
Bruised, beaten, shaken, weakened, tossed, thrown, lost, alone, heard, helped, healed, hope... it still works.