Walking Stick Quotes & Sayings

Omnivorous red devils with a vicious bite, they have denuded the ground surrounding their hill, destroying everything green and living within a radius of ten feet. I cannot resist the impulse to shove my walking stick into the bowels of their hive and rowel things up. Don't actually care for ants. Neurotic little pismires. Compared to ants the hairy scorpion is a beast of charm, dignity and — Edward Abbey

I had a hard time watching Wolf Creek. It is a film with one clear purpose: To establish the commercial credentials of its director by showing his skill at depicting the brutal tracking, torture and mutilation of screaming young women. When the killer severs the spine of one of his victims and calls her "a head on a stick," I wanted to walk out of the theater and keep on walking. — Roger Ebert

I should think it takes a fairly low intellect to draw pleasure from the following activity: hitting a ball with a crooked stick. and then walking after it! An then ..hitting it again! — George Carlin

Once the day is over in volleyball, I leave the court and no one sees or hears from me for the rest of the day. I like to keep work at work. It's pretty easy for me to live a pretty normal life. I like to coach and I like to sit in a crowd at a baseball game. No one really recognizes me unless I'm walking around a beach half-naked in a suit with my name on it. Of course, I have it easier than Kerri. When you're 6-3 you tend to stick out a little bit. — Misty May-Treanor

The only way he could truly stick out in New Orleans was if he were walking down the street on fire. — Hunter Murphy

Literature is a bad crutch, but a good walking-stick. — Charles Lamb

Even when she had to make some one a present of the kind called 'useful,' when she had to give an armchair or some table-silver or a walking-stick, she would choose 'antiques,' as though their long desuetude had effaced from them any semblance of utility and fitted them rather to instruct us in the lives of the men of other days than to serve the common requirements of our own. — Marcel Proust

I'm going to be 80, walking with a stick down the runway. — Heidi Klum

With the ferrule of his walking-stick Denis began to scratch the boar's long bristly back. The animal moved a little so as to bring himself within easier range of the instrument that evoked in him such delicious sensations; then he stood stock still, softly grunting his contentment. The mud of years flaked off his sides in a grey powdery scurf. "What a pleasure it is," said Denis, "to do somebody a kindness. I believe I enjoy scratching this pig quite as much as he enjoys being scratched. If only one could always be kind with so little expense or trouble ... — Aldous Huxley

I sighed.
Tink was sitting on the couch beside me and he'd commandeered my laptop at some point. The Walking Dead was on the television - well, it was on the Amazon Fire Stick TV thingy that the little bastard had ordered a few days ago unbeknownst to me. On my laptop, he was watching old episodes of Supernatural. I think he was on season three judging by the current length of Sam Winchester's hair.
At least it wasn't Harry Potter andTwilight this time, because I was getting really tired of hearing him quote Edward Cullen and Ron Weasley at the same time. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

A stroke of a man knocking a thistle top with a walking stick — John Arlott

Thor looked at Maddy. "What d'you mean, Father?"
He had loosened his grip on Loki, who was now flattened against the cell wall as far from Jormungand as he could manage while Ellie, incensed at this latest invasion, lashed out at the serpent with her walking stick.
"Terrific," said Loki under his breath. "Come to Netherworld. Meet the kids. — Joanne Harris

The snow-haired Uncle Dap, so old as to be absolutely fabulous, was trying to jump over his walking-stick. — T.H. White

And even if all that other bullshit were true, why me? What makes you think that a walking calamity such as myself would be even a fraction of a smidgen qualified to Kill people?"

"Well, you did just shiv your own uncle with a stick."

Lex shrank a little. "That's . . . different."

"And you beat up all those kids at school."

"Yeah, but - hey, that's not fair. It's not like I wanted them dead or anything."

He raised an eyebrow. "So what you're saying is that maybe you're not really as bad a kid as everyone thinks you are. — Gina Damico

As long as you can walk, you will find a walking stick. As long as you are brave, someone will help you. — Nina George

It isn't a club," I said calmly. "It's a walking stick."
"Six feet long."
"It's traditional Ozark folk art."
"With dents and nicks all over it."
I thought about it for a second. "I'm insecure?"
"Get a blanket." He held out his hand. I signed and passed my staff over to him. "Do I get a receipt?"
He took a notepad from his pocket and wrote on it. Then he passed it over to me. It read: Received, one six foot tall traditional Ozark walking club from Mr. Smart-Ass. — Jim Butcher

An Eskimo custom offers an angry person release by walking the emotion out of his or her system in a straight line across the landscape; the point at which the anger is conquered is marked with a stick, bearing witness to the strength or length of the rage. — Lucy R. Lippard

You are not the fat girl. You are voluptuous!...You are an angle descended from the heavens, a goddess of plenty walking among the denizens of hell where stick figures reign supreme. — Alesia Holliday

I can only put it sufficiently curtly in a careless simile. A Socialist means a man who thinks a walking-stick like an umbrella because they both go into the umbrella-stand. Yet they are as different as a battle-ax and a bootjack. — G.K. Chesterton

his hands clasped over a huge carved walking-stick, and a big old woman, sitting upright, with a roll of knitting on her embroidered — Katherine Mansfield

The tragic evils of our life are so commonly unintentional. We did not start out for that poor, cheap goal. That aim was not in our minds at all ... Look to the road you are walking on. He who picks up one end of [a] stick picks up the other.He who chooses the beginning of a road chooses the place it leads to. — Harry Emerson Fosdick

This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again — Regina Spektor

It was; she lifted her head and smiled. Only two people shared her "special" seat: a fine old man in a velvet coat, his hands clasped over a huge carved walking-stick, and a big old woman, sitting upright, with a roll of knitting on her embroidered apron. They did not speak. This was disappointing, for Miss Brill always looked forward to the conversation. She had become really quite expert, she thought, at listening as though she didn't listen, at sitting in other people's lives just for a minute while they talked round her. She glanced, sideways, at the old couple. Perhaps they would go soon. Last Sunday, too, hadn't been as interesting as usual. An Englishman and his wife, he wearing a dreadful Panama hat and she button boots. And she'd gone on the whole time about how she ought to wear spectacles; she knew she needed them; but that — Katherine Mansfield

Before the gate
my walking stick's made a river of melting snow — Kobayashi Issa

We are all doomed to seek our own happiness; we can't help ourselves. We are all, the cruel and the gentle alike, condemned to seeking that happiness in the dark. We use our need as the blind use a walking stick, to determine the safety of every forward step. — Jesse Browner

When I am furious about something, I sometimes beat the ground or a tree with my walking stick. But I certainly do not believe that the ground is to blame or that my beating can help anything ... And all rites are of this kind. — Ludwig Wittgenstein

I swore and stood, shaking her off. I didn't want to argue with her. I headed for the door. I now understood Millie's need to walk everywhere she went. Walking beat being trapped. And I was trapped.
"When are you going to start believing that you are worthy to be loved?" Her voice rang out behind me, clear and controlled, but there was a barely restrained fury that made her words wobble.
I paused and faced her once more. She was trying to follow me, and I had no doubt that if I walked out of the house, she would grab her stick, and I would be forced to play a game of Marco Polo down the streets of Levan so she wouldn't lose me. I needed her to let me go and she obviously wasn't going to do that. — Amy Harmon

If leadership is the way forward, vision is its walking stick. — Nkem Paul

I never knew when I was gong to leave. I might be walking over to a kid's house, then of all a sudden I would just stick out my thumb and hitchhike across three states. — Rickie Lee Jones

This is not a good time, Miss Implant." Roman felt Jean-Luc jabbing him in the back with his walking stick. "Uh, Porky. No, I mean
" Damn, what the hell was her name? — Kerrelyn Sparks

I remember when one dressed the part for the West End, and strolled with yellow gloves and a walking-stick. But that world has gone, and another takes its place, eyes see differently, emotions react to other themes. Men weep at jazz, and violence has become sexual. Time marches on. — Charlie Chaplin

Yet anything less ecstatic than the singing of today's widows in Vrindavan would be hard to imagine. At the back, the madwomen are shrieking. In the foreground, the exhausted old widows struggle to keep up with the cantor's pitch, many nodding asleep until given a poke by one of the ashram managers walking up and down the aisles with a stick. It is difficult to think of a sorrier or more pathetic sight. Vrindavan, Krishna's earthly paradise, is today a place of such profound sadness and distress that it almost defies description. — William Dalrymple

I'm in no hurry to get old. But when I do, I'll be out to enjoy every last minute. I see myself at 90 in some nursing home, waving my walking stick about as I jive to Gene Vincent records. — Imelda May

Your fascination with my ass isn't healthy, you know. I'm apparently already taken. My lover-to-be might beat you with his walking stick or toss his dentures at you if you put your gorilla-sized hands on that region of my body." Anger — Laurann Dohner

No reporter of my generation, whatever his genius, ever really rated spats and a walking stick until he had covered both a lynching and a revolution. — H.L. Mencken

When I do outdoor scenes, I tend to find a quiet space where I can sit and carve a walking stick that can turn out to be interesting for me. — Mads Mikkelsen

Jamie, who had insisted on walking most of the way to spare the horse, was a disreputable sight indeed, hose stained to the knees with reddish dust, spare shirt torn by brambles and a week's growth of beard bristling fiercely from cheek and jaw. His hair had grown long enough in the last months to reach his shoulders. Usually clubbed into a queue or laced back, it was free now, thick and unruly, with small bits of leaf and stick caught in the disordered coppery locks. Face burned a deep ruddy bronze, boots cracked from walking, dirk and sword thrust through his belt, he looked a wild Highlander indeed. — Diana Gabaldon

For every inch of skin, there is memory. Devils are so made. Saints, too, if you believe in them. His humanity has been broken as an old walking stick that once held up a crippled man named Thomas. He realizes the stick and the man are one thing and he can fall. He has violated the laws beneath the laws of men and countries, something deeper, the earth and the sea, the explosions of trees. He has to care again. He has to be water again, rock, earth with its new spring wildflowers and its beautiful, complex mosses. — Linda Hogan

He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature. — Madeline Miller

Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick. — J.R.R. Tolkien

There is but one soul throughout the universe, all is but one existence - "Thou art in the woman, thou in the man, thou in the young man walking in the pride of youth, thou in the old man tottering on his stick - thou art All - in all, in everything, and I am thee, because I am made from thee." — Swami Vivekananda

The servant wasn't amused. He still looked stern and suspicious, but Rupert had given his improvised explanation while walking toward the man and was within reach by the last word. He tried a punch first, grabbing the servant's shirtfront as he did so the man wouldn't land out in the hall. If that didn't work,he wasn't sure what would. He certainly didn't want to seriously harm the fellow,just knock him out and dump him out the window for the time being.
Half of that plan worked. The man did drop immediately and Rupert's hold on him kept him from falling loudly to the floor. He even got him to the window with ease, but the plan ended there. Priceless. The window frame was nailed shut for the cold months to minimize drafts. Bloody hell,it wasn't that cold yet. There were no large pieces of furniture to stick the man behind either. As a last resort, he dragged him back to the hall wall and just laid him down alongside it, so he'd be less noticeable to anyone passing by the room — Johanna Lindsey

Do you know what Ed Gein said about women?"
[ ... ]
"'When I see a pretty girl walking down the street I think two things. One part of me wants to take her out and talk to her and be real nice and sweet and treat her right.'" I stop finish my J&B in one swallow.
"What does the other part of him think?" Hamlin asks tentatively.
"What her head would look like on a stick — Bret Easton Ellis

The Lord gave you a mind so that you can make honest use of it. I'm saying you must be sure that the doubts and questions are your own, not, so to speak, the mustache and walking stick that happen to be the fashion of any particular moment. — Marilynne Robinson

When Sterling's eyesight did finally fail him completely, we were
up in years, content to sit in our garden and reflect on what a
wondrous and exciting life we'd led. He did not see my hair fade into
silver. For him it was always a vibrant red. I watched him age
gracefully and with dignity. He leaned on me much more than he
did his walking stick, which was how it should be, because when I
needed him most, he was always there for me. Each day I thought I
could love him no more than I already did - and the following
morning I was always proven wrong, for I awoke loving him just a
little bit more. — Lorraine Heath

I found myself being helped down to the car. That sort of help is actually a hindrance. If you ever see someone with a walking stick, that stick, and their arm, are actually a leg. — Jo Walton

I know who the real hero is, and it isn't me or brave Lanaya. It's an old man with a white beard and a walking stick and a heart so big it won't let him stop thinking he can change the world by writing down things in a book no one will ever read. — Rodman Philbrick

If it makes you feel any better, he's been all sad doll lately too."
"What are you talking about, Chels?"
Chelsea stopped walking and stared at Violet.
"Jay. I'm talking about Jay, Vi. I thought you might want to know that you're not the only one who's hurting. He's been moping around school, making it hard to even look at him. He's messed up ... bad." Just like the other night in Violet's bedroom, something close to ... sympathy crossed Chelsea's face.
Violet wasn't sure how to respond.
Fortunately sympathetic Chelsea didn't stick around for long. She seemed to get a grip on herself, and like a switch had been flipped, the awkward moment was over and her friend was back, Chelsea-style: "I swear, every time I see him, I'm halfway afraid he's gonna start crying like a girl or ask to borrow a tampon or something. Seriously, Violet, it's disgusting. Really. Only you can make it stop. Please make it stop. — Kimberly Derting

I say, did you hear me?" The old man shook a worn walking stick at the oak. "I said move it and I meant it! I was sitting on that rock" -he pointed to a boulder- "enjoying the rising sun on my old bones when you had the nerve to cast a shadow over it and chill me! Move this instant. I say!" The tree did not respond. It also did not move. "I won't take any more of your insolence!" The old man began to beat on the tree with his stick. "Move or I'll - I'll -" "Someone shut that looney in a cage!" Fewmaster Toede shouted, galloping back from the front of the caravan. "Get your hands off me!" the old man shreiked at the draconians who ran up and accosted him. He beat on them feebly with his staff until they took it away from him. "Arrest the tree!" he insisted. "Obstructing sunlight! That's the charge! — Margaret Weis

What y'all ladies got to share? Hmmm, what you bitches got?"

Aunt Georgia sighed and squinted at the boy. She said, "The Lord loves a cheerful giver, but I'm just not in the mood."

The thug moved his hand from his crotch to his scalp, still scratching. "What in the hell's that supposed to mean?" Mrs. Cleveland raised and pumped her walking stick, which, it turned out, was a double-barreled shotgun.

"It means take one more step," she said, "and I'll blast you to hell, you ignorant-ass bastard. — Jabari Asim

This advice from a college freshman carrying a cane?"

"It's a walking stick, I'll have you know."

"Same difference."

"Hardly. It's fashion. — Danika Stone

Sir," said the guard from behind me. "I'd appreciate it if you left your club here."
I paused and looked over my shoulder, He had a gun. His hand wasn't exactly resting on it, but he'd tucked his thumb into his belt about half an inch away.
"It isn't a club," I said calmly. "It's a walking stick."
"Six feet long."
"It's traditional Ozark folk art."
"With dents and nicks all over it."
I thought about it for a second. "I'm insecure?"
"Get a blanket. — Jim Butcher

Narrowing her eyes, Jocasta ground her teeth together and stalked toward the source of the magic. Her walking stick thudded against the ground in time with her step. She drew her cloak about her bony shoulders, huddling into it against the chill of the late October air. Her bones were too old to be traipsing about at this hour of the night, but that was what came of being the head of the SALEM Council. — Violet Merriweather

The walking stick serves the purpose of an advertisement that the bearer's hands are employed otherwise than in useful effort, and it therefore has utility as an evidence of leisure. — Thorstein Veblen

The detectives slide back on the digital timeline to the moment when Mendelssohn steps out into the snowstorm: there is something of the Greek epic about it, the old gray man with his walking stick, venturing out, into the snow, out of frame and away, like an ancient word stepping off a page. — Colum McCann

Samsa sat there for a long time with his eyes closed. Then, making up his mind, he stood, grabbed his black walking stick, and headed for the stairs. He would return to the second floor and figure out the proper way to dress. For now, at least, that would be his mission. The world was waiting for him to learn. — Haruki Murakami

Show me you have one iota of self-restraint."

"I will," I said quickly.

"Stay away from her."

"Okay."

"Keep your hands off her."

"I'll try."

He scowled at me.

"I will," I said.

He wiggled his fingers at me. "And it might help public relations with Lori's pop if you put on a shirt and quit walking around here like sex on a stick. — Jennifer Echols

It was my mustache that landed jobs for me. In those silent-film days it was the mark of a villain. When I realized they had me pegged as a foreign nobleman type I began to live the part, too. I bought a pair of white spats, an ascot tie and a walking stick. — Adolphe Menjou

(Lisa Henson about her father) He admired the job of the man who walks along the road picking up trash with a long stick. He thought that guy had a great job, walking along with a stick, enjoying the road, and doing only good in the world, with hundreds of small actions. — Jim Henson

God speaks when you put on your hiking boots, take a walking stick, and abandon yourself to the beauty of God's creation. God speaks when you enter the chapel and find yourself standing in the presence of a mighty God who loves you. God speaks when you just listen. It's as though you can hear God praying! — Don Wilton

I have no use for the kind of God who goes walking in his garden with a stick, sends his friends to live in the bellies of whales, gives up the ghost with a groan and then comes back to life three days later! — Gustave Flaubert

Let us take our tongues and stick them out and waggle them in the wind. Let us walk, loving, let us walk and love, walking along, loving. — Meia Geddes

the walking stick, like a burqa, conferred protective status... — Robert Galbraith

He can play that leg glance with a walking stick also. — Waqar Younis

Hey Atticus, do me a quick favour before we go? its easy.
Sure. What is it?
Hold Granuailes staff for just a minute. You know, rest it on the ground so that its like a walking stick or something and the top of it is near your right cheek.
Granuaile and I traded weapons to humor him and I stood as instructed.
Thats perfect! Now say this like Sir Ian McKellen I am Atticus the White, and I come back to you now at the turn of the tide. — Kevin Hearne

Val smiled evilly at the child and reached into his pocket.
"Do you," he asked, "like kittens?"
And he held out a black, fluffy kitten with a white chest.
Annalise blinked at the kitten's green eyes.
The kitten blinked back.
"Oh, yes!" said Annalise.
Val deposited the kitten into the plump little arms and strolled to the kitchens, where Hecate and her kittens were in residence, swinging his gold walking stick.
There were seven more kittens remaining and a garden full of his enemies' children ... — Elizabeth Hoyt

See, you're walking really fast now, you don't need it at all," she called after me. I stopped and turned around. I could feel my cheeks burning. The bus station was full of people. "Nobody would pretend to be a cripple! Nobody would use a stick they didn't need! You should be ashamed of yourself for thinking that I would. If I could walk without it I'd break it in half across your back and run off singing. You have no right to talk to me like that, to talk to anyone like that. Who made you queen of the world when I wasn't looking? Why do you imagine I would go out with a stick I don't need - to try to steal your sympathy? I don't want your sympathy, that's the last thing I want. I just want to mind my own business, which is what you should be doing. — Jo Walton

As I looked down at him, as I saw his yellow hair pressed against my coat, I had a vision of him from long ago, that tall, stately gentleman in the swirling black cape, with his head thrown back, his rich, flawless voice singing the lilting air of the opera from which we'd only just come, his walking stick tapping the cobblestones in time with the music, his large, sparkling eye catching the young woman who stood by, enrapt, so that a smile spread over his face as the song died on his lips; and for one moment, that one moment when his eye met hers, all evil seemed obliterated in that flush of pleasure, that passion for merely being alive. — Anne Rice

I first became aware of the delights of the natural world when my father, an entomologist, presented me with what looked like a twig. When it got up and walked, my delight was such that I wrote a poem, 'To a Walking Stick.' — Jean Craighead George

Ray called out, "Weapons ready. Sound off."
"Walking stick and shields against animals attacks."
"Clean underwear and a rock-salt shotgun," said Winn... — Scott Rhine

As a child I thought that I would never grow up, that I could will it so. And then I realized, quite recently, that I had crossed some line, unconsciously cloaked in the truth of my chronology. How did we get so damn old? I say to my joints, my iron-colored hair. Now I am older than my love, my departed friends. Perhaps I will live so long that the New York Public Library will be obliged to hand over the walking stick of Virginia Woolf. I would cherish it for her, and the stones in her pocket. But I would also keep on living, refusing to surrender my pen. — Patti Smith

opened the door with a smile. The man bowed slightly, then stepped quickly over the threshold and grabbed the door from her hand to close it firmly behind him. "Here," she said angrily. "What's - " The man pushed her disdainfully aside with the walking stick — Felicia Andrews

When Mama starts to move across a room, people pay attention. You can never be sure she's not going to grab you by the top of the head to steady herself. And she's pretty free with that walking stick, too. — Bailey White

There, don't you think I'm always a-fault-finding! When I get hold of the real thing in folks, I stick to 'em, - but there's an awful sight of poor material walking about that ain't worth the ground it steps on. — Sarah Orne Jewett

Claire was struggling through last summer's diary volume when Myrnin popped in through the portal, wearing a big floppy black hat and a kind of crazy/stylish pimp coat that covered him from neck to ankles, black leather gloves, and a black and silver walking stick with a dragon's head on it. And, on his lapel was a button that said, If you can read this, thank a teacher. — Rachel Caine