Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Stotting. 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 Stotting Quotes And Sayings by 98 Authors including Seneca.,Kinley Macgregor,Cuthbert Soup,August Clearwing,Jeff Bridges for you to enjoy and share.
Stolid pack-animals are much more fit for carrying loads than thoroughbred horses: who ever subdued their noble speed with a heavy burden?
I am merely biding my time. (Stryder)
For what? (Rowena)
For the moment when I am out of this cell and am able to wreak havoc on the one who put me here. I'm going to pull out his innards through his nostrils and dance around his entrails. (Stryder)
What's a wingding? Why, a wingding is, uh ... it's just like a shindig but without all the hullabaloo.
Being my lady on my arm and my slut between the sheets
So I have this word for much of what I do in life: 'plorking.' I'm not playing and I'm not working, I'm plorking.
A runner's stride is not perfectly efficient.
Parkour," I panted. "Bitch.
Jigging veins of rhyming mother wits.
Lizzing is a combination of laughing and whizzing.
stuttering over your words.
smacking his fist into
Wart draggled off to the tower room, where Merlyn was busy knitting himself a woollen night-cap for the winter. "I cast off two together at every other line," said the magician, "but for some reason it seems to end too sharply. Like an onion. It is the turning of the heel that does one, every time.
On one foot you limp;
on two feet you sprint.
DEDICATION To Staci
I'm always hustling.
The Stag at Bay with the mentality of a fox at large.
Ducking around twisted trees whose fingers are branches spread like cracked ceilings under gray sky.
Strenuous occasions where (jumpy, un-opiated, wracked to the last synapse),
The stakeout. The least glamorous and yet often the most valuable activity in investigations. To endure the agonizing boredom and forestall restlessness, I slowed my metabolism into near rigor mortis until I was nothing more than a pair of eyeballs fixed
Its the shingaling, baby!
In the almost film-like flitting-by of modern life, a man needs something to tell him, from time to time, that he is still himself, and nothing can give him this assurance in so comforting a manner as the "four feet trotting behind".
Running the race
Like a mouse in a cage
Getting nowhere but I'm trying
Forging ahead
But I'm stuck in the bed
That I made so I'm lying
Whining and panting beneath
Hold your horses. I'm coming." ...
"From where I'm standing you're just breathing laboriously."
The snow swam out of focus. "Breathing hard. Are you coming or just breathing hard. You've got to get your one-liners straight.
Stammering is different than stuttering. Stutterers have trouble with the letters, while stammerers trip over entire parts of a sentence. We stammerers generally think of ourselves as very bright.
Why, universal plodding poisons up The nimble spirits in the arteries, As motion and long-during action tires The sinewy vigor of the traveller.
Racing down the kingsroad, as if to outrun his doubts.
The choking, sweltering, deadly, and killing rule of no rule; the consecration of cupidity and braying of folly, and dim stupidity and baseness, in most of the affairs of men. Slopshirts attainable three-halfpence cheaper by the ruin of living bodies and immortal souls.
doting, the guy on the sideline at
sucking on a football.
Tail wagging like a windscreen wiper in a downpour.
Stepping forth to replenish it, for now the snow came in flying sweeps
I was sitting on a bench having a bagel, but from where I was both jogging and sculng looks good to me.
Sam
Trying to follow in the footsteps of the masters, but it's a lot harder than it looks because even though they had the same size feet as us, they weren't looking down the whole time while they walked to make sure they were doing it right
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.
rolling eye balls
SAUNTERING, which word is beautifully derived "from idle people who roved about the country, in the Middle Ages, and asked charity, under pretense of going a la Sainte Terre," to the Holy Land, till the children exclaimed, "There goes a Sainte-Terrer," a Saunterer, a Holy-Lander.
Running so hard, her breath stippled with pain to go faster, hit the grass harder, move forward faster, like she could break through something in front of her, something no one else saw.
I didn't bother to put shoes on. Finger-combing
Between extremities
Man runs his course;
A brand, or flaming breath,
Comes to destroy
All those antinomies
Of day and night ...
Action is at bottom a swinging and flailing of the arms to regain one's balance and keep afloat.
Where ruts have not yet been worn, it requires less effort to stay out of them.
Jumping up and down like a Mexican jumping bean on crack.
There is nothing quite so gentle, deep, and irrational as running
and nothing quite so savage, so wild.
Catching my breath. I watch them go. I watch them disregard gravity, the ground, and the distance between us. And though an old feeling, one of the wings, haunts my shoulder blades, I stay pinned to the window. I've learned that I cannot go with them
It [angling] deserves commendations; ... it is an art worthy the knowledge and practice of a wise man.
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
Preparing for the ups and downs of life.
There is a place where cerebral an corporeal meet: they call it rowing
I will keep on hurdling and keep on hustling.
Strut' said Ursula. 'One wants to strut, to be a swan among geese
Storming, enjoying, planning, loving, cautioning,
Backing and filling, appearing and disappearing,
I tread day and night such roads.
I'll be contacting Webster tomorrow. My suggestion will be absofuckingmazing.
Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
As Shakespeare said, there's nothin' cooler than droppin' the 'g's off of gerunds!
this "gawky, stammering adventurer.
Time is passing : not leaden stepping
But sprinting on winged feet,
Quick silver slipping by.
A Schwalling is when he does something unintentionally idiotic that makes him look stupid,
She walked with Bertram; she walked rather like a stag, with a little give of the ankles, fanning herself, majestic, silent, with all her senses roused, her ears pricked, snuffing the air, as if she had been some wild, but perfectly controlled creature taking its pleasure by night.
Feral rearranging. Letting form ferment. Letting form pass through you.
Wearing a scrap of colored cloth around your neck, even though it serves no useful purpose, but which answers to the name of "tie."
racing for his freedom along the battlements and rooftops of St Pol.
There is nothing pleasanter than spading when the ground is soft and damp.
Shedding off one more layer of skin
Keeping one step ahead of the persecutor within
Walking with the projected chest
Feeling like you just won
The race has been tough
But the joy of winning is too good;
Wallowing in this bloody sty,
I cast for fish that pleased my eye
Exerting yourself to the fullest within your individual limits: that's the essence of running, and a metaphor for life - -and for me, for writing as well.
Maintain your speed no matter what happens! For the tikbalang shall chase you
I regret to say ... to the ends of the earth!
Running away can also be running to.
The march of good fortune has backward slips: to retreat one or two paces gives wings to the jumper.
Moving. Someone said this to me a long time ago, it's bhuddist saying, I think: 'There is no wasted effort'.
to follow. "I gotta be settin' out the
Of all athletic forms, running is perhaps the most taxing and the most exciting; that is, when carried to the extreme.
smoking some exotic fairy weed.
Running is a simple, primitive act, and therein lays its power. For it is one of the few commonalities left between us as a human race.
You can't go on running forever ... " "And you can't go on ... " Alfie desperately searched for the right word, " ... mopedding* forever!
a furtive groove
The Springboard. Denning
Prowling about the rooms, sitting down, getting up, stirring the fire, looking out the window, teasing my hair, sitting down to write, writing nothing, writing something and tearing it up ...
WOKING (vb.) To enter the kitchen with the precise determination to perform something only to forget what it is just before you do it.
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.
Angling is an amusement peculiarly adapted to the mild and cultivated scenery of England
Form on the floor. All
That's not a run in your stocking, it's a hand on your leg.
For every runner who tours the world running marathons, there are thousands who run to hear the leaves and listen to the rain, and look to the day when it is suddenly as easy as a bird in flight.
Holding onto Midge's shirt so he isn't carried off in the wind, we
ingenuity. "This
Putting facts by the thousands, into the world, the toes take off with an appealing squeak which the thumping heel follows confidentially, the way men greet men. Sometimes walking is just such elated pumping.
going to the mattresses
My ties and ballasts leave me - I travel - I sail - My elbows rest in the sea-gaps. I skirt the sierras. My palms cover continents - I am afoot with my vision.
Pretending that Shiloh's a bear, tryin' to get in. The more they squeal, the more Shiloh wiggles about, tryin' to get his nose under the edge of the sheet, tail going ninety miles an hour. If that dog had wings, he'd fly, except his propeller would be on the wrong end.
What are you doing here?" I asked. I was breathless, not certain any longer if it was my nearly plummeting to my death or his nearness that was making it so hard to draw in air.
"Protecting you. What does it look like I'm doing?
The Lame goes as farre as your staggerer.
[The lame goes as far as your staggerer.]
They took off running like a couple of spastic marathoners.
going on between-- Pat White
untrammelled flow
To follow the drops sliding from a lifting oar, Head up, while the rower breathes, and the small boat drifts quietly shoreward ...
Fhat thouding do're.
Buggeration and Fuckery
Each day adds a bead
to the ever peevish episodes of frailty,
I try running at an unkempt speed,
returning back like waves into a cruel sea;