Vacillated 7 Quotes & Sayings

Writing and telling are almost the same, the way I do it. — Daniel Pinkwater

A man is born gentle and weak. At death, he is hard and stiff. Green plants are tender and filled with sap. At death, they are withered and dry. Therefore, the stiff and unbending is the disciple of death, and the gentle and yielding is the disciple of life. — Laozi

You have more issues than Reader's Digest. — Rebecca McNutt

She reshelved the sixpack and wrenched herself away to less compelling parts of the store, but it was hard to plan dinner when you felt like throwing up. She returned to the beer shelves like a bird repeating its song. The various beer cans had different decorations but all contained the identical weak low-end brew. It occurred to her to drive to Grand Rapids and buy some actual wine. It occurred to her to drive back to the house without buying anything at all. But then where would she be? A weariness set in as she stood and vacillated: a premonition that none of the possible impending outcomes would bring enough relief or pleasure to justify her current heart-racing wretchedness. She saw, in other words, what it meant to have become a deeply unhappy person. — Jonathan Franzen

The Indians the needed some food, and some skins for a roof. They only took what they needed, baby, millions of buffalo were the proof. — Ted Nugent

Trying to understand her teenage daughter's behavior was like trying to listen to a recording of a symphony whose volume vacillated unpredictably from barely audible to deafening. She couldn't hear the music, and all she wanted to do was leave the room. — Sonja Yoerg

There is no passion, more spectral or fantastical than hate, not even its opposite, love, so peoples air, with phantoms, as this madness of the heart. — Lord Byron

I always did plays. When I was in kindergarten, I got chosen to be Alvin in 'The Chipmunks.' We did a Chipmunks song. I was always a natural performer. It was easy for me. I danced and I sang, and all that stuff. I felt like I'd be something in the arts, but it vacillated between being a dancer and a singer, or whatever. — Kari Matchett

If you want to be happy, then be happy. Misery is a choice. — Lamees Alhassar

After all is said and done, what is life anyway? Aren't we all going to die in the end? I believe life is only worth living if, while we are on this earth, we can do honorable things. — Ayse Kulin

Author describes that a failed sea captain, vacillated miserably between self-recrimination and defensiveness. — Joseph Wheelan

Insurance firms have always carefully studied real-world data to figure out what, precisely, constitutes a risky activity. — Clive Thompson

I guess its time you officially met the lost boys," I said to Daniel.
"Lost boys? You mean like that old Kiefer Sutherland movie?
"What? No, I mean like Peter Pan and the lost boys."
"Is she calling us fairies?" Asked Slade.
"No," Brent said. "She means the lost boys that never wanted to grow up, and got into mischief with Peter Pan."
"Still sounds like fairies to me." Slade crossed his tattooed arms in front of his chest.
"Still sounds like that Kiefer Sutherland movie to me." Daniel smirked.
"We were in the play together, like, seven years ago. You were mad because my mom made you wear tights, but you wanted to be a pirate."
Daniel held his hand up. "Partial amnesia here, remember? I must have blocked out any and all recollections associations with said tights."
Brent, Zach, and Ryan laughed. Slade almost cracked a smile.


~ Grace, Daniel, and The Lost Boys — Bree Despain

She herself vacillated when it came to belief. She did not particularly believe in God. Or, rather, she didn't believe in a particular God. Nevertheless, she kept an open mind. She was not a melancholy agnostic, but the optimistic kind. She liked to give God the benefit of the doubt. — Allegra Goodman

A servant wants to be rewarded for what he does. A lover wants only to be in love's presence, that ocean whose depth will never be known. — Rumi

We'd been told that the village was already liberated, that there would be no resistance, but there it was, sat between the bakery and the church like a horsefly on a slice of melon. We'd been so relaxed we didn't even notice it until the barrel swung round towards us like the eye of a muddy crocodile and its jaws released the shell that killed two of us outright and young Tommy Kenah three days later in his hospital bed. — Claire North

Anyone moderately familiar with the rigours of composition will not need to be told the story in detail; how he wrote and it seemed good; read and it seemed vile; corrected and tore up; cut out; put in; was in ecstasy; in despair; had his good nights and bad mornings; snatched at ideas and lost them; saw his book plain before him and it vanished; acted people's parts as he ate; mouthed them as he walked; now cried; now laughed; vacillated between this style and that; now preferred the heroic and pompous; next the plain and simple; now the vales of Tempe; then the fields of Kent or Cornwall; and could not decide whether he was the divinest genius or the greatest fool in the world. — Virginia Woolf