Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Stammerers. 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 Stammerers Quotes And Sayings by 91 Authors including William Shakespeare,Gareth Gates,Fyodor Dostoyevsky,Lao-Tzu,Stephanie Pearl-Mcphee for you to enjoy and share.
They stumble that run fast.
No one knows for sure if you can inherit a stammer, and so I worry that my baby might. It's why I want to work on my speech before he arrives. I don't want him to hear me stammer.
Drowning men, it is said, cling to wisps of straw.
Shrinking looked they like those who wade through a stream in winter;
SABLE- A common knitting acronym that stands for Stash Acquisition Beyond Life Expectancy.
People with no upper-body strength, who read poetry. These are my people.
They aimless halt, who halt for others.
I've been told to speed up my delivery when I perform. But if I lose the stammer, I'm just another slightly amusing accountant.
The Chollerick drinkes, the Melancholick eats, the Flegmatick sleepes.
Tis the strumpet's plague
To beguile many, and be beguiled by one.
Steak swallowers zonked on Television!
The dog proved to be as dumb and stubborn as a mud fence, so Stranahan had named him Strom.
The stork is voiceless because there is really nothing to say.
Stolid pack-animals are much more fit for carrying loads than thoroughbred horses: who ever subdued their noble speed with a heavy burden?
Prodigies! Geniuses! Artists! The lumer-lumpen are some of the most sensitive, the most brilliant, the wisest creatures on the earth or inside of it. There is more wisdom in the head of a lumpen than you will find in all the libraries of the world ... If only they could speak ...
People stagger, but they pick up a tattered thread and wind it back onto a spool.
We must scrunch or be scrunched.
We wail, batten, sport, clip, clasp, sunder, dwindle, die:
The Uprighters called them names and promised them an eternity of agony in the next world for their eagerness to be comfortable in this one. But like Shmul S, the intestine-tied milkman, the Slouchers couldn't give a shit.
Summerlee burst into derisive laughter. 'A ptero-fiddlestick!' said he. 'It was a stork, if I ever I saw one.
Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander,
Treading blood from lungs that had loved laughter.
BLARGLE SLORG NOTH HARGHLE FTHAGN! You know. The usual.
Stow your twitchy palm!
You can think about gloves. You can think about snuvs. You can think a long time about snuvs and their gloves.
...[M]en are put in a sort of guard-post, from which one must not release one's self or run away...
Leah: I want those gubs Mommy.
Kate: They're not 'gubs' they're 'gloves'
Aaden and Leah try and say gloves
Leah: Gloves!
Kate: Good job!
Aaden: Gubs!
Kate: No
Such an assemblage of the spraddle-legged men of the middle class, whose hands were bent and shoulders stooped from delving and constructing, had never appeared to an Asbury Park summer crowd, and the latter was vaguely amused.
Whoever gulps down wine as a horse gulps down water is called a Scythian.
Short swallow-flights of song, that dip Their wings in tears, and skim away.
The other package has pieces of dried stag stick. The pups like chewing on those."
"What's a stag stick?" Meg asked, taking the packages.
He stared at her for a moment. Then he put a fist below his belt and popped out a thumb.
"Oh," Meg said. "Oh.
I am often on guard over the Russians. In the darkness one sees their forms move like stick storks, like great birds. They come close up to the wire fence and lean their faces against it. Their fingers hook round the mesh.
Nothing can stop the words so well as the mute alphabet of knit and purl. The curl of your cupped hand scoops up long drinks of calm. The rhythm you find is from down inside, rocking cradle, heartbeat, ocean. Waves on a rockless shore.
With their souls of patent leather, they come down the road. Hunched and nocturnal, where they breathe they impose, silence of dark rubber, and fear of fine sand.
We are not called "human stagnates." We are called human beings, persons in process, persons involved in the act and art of actually shaping or reshaping ourselves, or working to understand what Frank Barron calls the "patterns within diversity.
The smylere with the knyf under the cloke.
Busy hands and idle minds have knitted many a sweater; Busy minds and idle hands have knitted many a brow.
What did my arms do before they held you?
Whats the name you Poms have for that thing where you jump up and down and hit each other with sticks?"
"Sex?"
"Gardening?"
He snapped his fingers. "Morris dancing.
So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
Find we a time for frighted peace to pant
And breathe short-winded accents of new broils
To be commenced in stronds afar remote.
Oh, rather give me commentators plain, Who with no deep researches vex the brain; Who from the dark and doubtful love to run, And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun.
I'm an Igor, thur. We don't athk quethtionth."
"Really? Why not?"
"I don't know, thur. I didn't athk.
O, they have lived long on the alms-basket of words. I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.
So many words get lost. They leave the mouth and lose their courage, wandering aimlessly until they are swept away into the gutter like dead leaves. On rainy days you can hear their chorus rushing kkpast.
Plodding wins the race.
Poltroons, cowards, skulkers and dastards.
Strenuous occasions where (jumpy, un-opiated, wracked to the last synapse),
..people who stutter may be of above intellect but have trouble putting the many ideas they have into words in an easily understood order without stuttering on using some other form of place-holding mechanism.
Thinking brainlessly with their spinal cords.
Now Simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the chrystal streamlets plays;
Come let us spend the lightsome days
In the birks of Aberfeldy.
The stoats are on guard, at every point, and they make the best sentinels in the world.
row of stitches.
Stoicism for show: to be an enthusiast of nil admirari, an hysteric of ataraxia.
Monkeys who very sensibly refrain from speech, lest they should be set to earn their livings.
The Welsh ... I mean, what are they for?
In a long journey straw waighs.
The Friday Night Knitting Club
It is a universally acknowledged, inalienable truth that a knitter faced with the unadorned neck, head, and hands of a person she cares for feels an overwhelming compulsion to smother that person in fancy hand-knits.
I should hurry, then, if I were you," said Blackberry. "The sun will be down soon." "Hah!" said Bigwig. "If I meet a stoat, it'd better look out, that's all. I'll bring you one back tomorrow, shall I?
- Bucky dear, his wife warned, you're slurring your words. - Slurring is the cursive of speech, I observed.
She's one of those people who are like Slinkies."
"Slinkies?"
"Yeah. Basically useless, but they make you smile when you push them down the stairs.
Blind mouths! That scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook.
Puddings, my dear sir?' cried Graham.
Puddings. We trice 'em athwart the starboard gumbrils, when sailing by and large.
Yeah, I'm bringing back the word "slattern." Deal
When folks git ole en strucken wid de palsy, dey mus' speck ter be laff'd at.
Most often when I stammer
That's my brain
Correcting my grammer.
Are farmers and they keep trying to breathe, keep the body moving to keep the soul from atrophying. Mama cries when she strings
I learned to knit in 2002, six months after my 5-year-old daughter, Grace, died suddenly from a virulent form of strep. I was unable to read or write, and friends suggested I take up knitting; almost immediately I fell under its spell.
The horses have stopped
their clippity-clop,
but feet are too slow
for where I must go.
So here I shall stay
until light of day
when clippity-clop
gets my team underway.
fiddlesticks" and
A custom loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmful to the brain, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black, stinking fume thereof nearest resembling the horrible Stygian smoke of the pit that is bottomless.
Breathing is fundamental to speech. A stammer is caused by erratic airflow, so if you have a smooth airflow, you have smooth speech.
Rail attendants dismiss excited train hobbyists as "foamers" (foaming at the mouth as they board their choo-choos).
Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents The armorers accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation.
Laistry ... I can't even say that. What would you call them in English?"
"Canadians.
They took off running like a couple of spastic marathoners.
The common herd of "burghers", those cattle, complete with horns, who turn millstones with their bare hands.
Ragweed,wild oat,vetch,butcher grastrong>sstrong>strong>sstrong>,invaginate volunteer beanstrong>sstrong>,all headstrong>sstrong> gently nodding in a morning breeze like a mother'strong>sstrong> strong>sstrong>oft hand on your cheek ...
These people who are always briskly doing something and as busy as waltzing mice, they have little, sharp, staccato ideas, such as: "I see where I can make an annual cut of $3.47 in my meat budget." But they have no slow, big ideas.
The skin of moss / holds the footprints of / star-footed birds.
Mr. Snagsby, as a timid man, is accustomed to cough with a variety of expressions, and so to save words.
The happiest stutterers, I learned, are those who are willing to stutter in front of others.
chooks. You cannot go away and leave
With Angela drawn to the hangdog look and Malachy lonely after three months in jail, there was bound to be a knee-trmbler.
A knee-trmbler is the act itself done up against a wall, man and woman up on their toes, straining so hard their knees tremble with the excitement that's in it.
I wish I had some stock in a scrunchie company.
The men, who lumber around with Cowboys jerseys hanging past their coattails and their pants bagged around the heels of their boots, a fatal foreshortening of vertical line that makes them look like a bunch of hulking twelve-year-olds.
My men like satyrs grazing on the lawns, / Shall with their goat-feet dance an antic hay.
Stagnation is a slow death.
Lemmings with suicide vests. It's kind of an insult to lemmings to call them lemmings, so they'd have to be more than just a lemming, because jumping to your death is not enough.
scat to rock steady
Ev'n wit's a burthen, when it talks too long.
Some people are like slinkies. Not really good for much but bring a smile to your face when pushed down the stairs.
Dont you know... I'm the boggyman."-St. Dane
I'll bet your father spent the first year of your life throwing rocks at the stork.
Click, clack, click, clack, went their conversation, like so many knitting-needles, purl, plain, purl, plain, achieving a complex pattern of references, cross-references, Christian names, nicknames, and fleeting allusions.
Surely it would be easier to be a stork than a seventeen-year-old girl.
Lazy fokes's stummucks don't git tired.
A great stag woven of rushes and fluttering with green ribbons was borne through the streets to the music of pipe and tabor. Crowds of women surrounded it, leaping and grabbing at the ribbons.
You worthless excuse for a dung dealer. (Stryder)
Worpswede, Worpswede, I cannot get you out of my mind ... Your magnificent pine trees! I call them my men
thick, gnarled, powerful, and tall
yet with the most delicate nerves and fibers in them.
fishhook. It's squiggly like a worm. Something's