A Quote by Frances E. Willard

I finally concluded that all failure was from a wobbling will rather than a wobbling wheel. — © Frances E. Willard
I finally concluded that all failure was from a wobbling will rather than a wobbling wheel.
Giant agencies are wobbling like drunkards... the rest of you should be sharpening your knives.
This is not a time to quail, it is not a crisis, nor should we see it as an excuse for wobbling or self-doubt. But it is a moment for hope...
There are times when I'm on the athletics track when I can't control my movement or I'm not able to maintain my hip stability and I am wobbling all over the place.
The thing about Memphis is that it's pleasingly off-kilter. It's a great big whack job of a city. The anti-Atlanta. You go there, and you can't believe the things people will say, the way they think, the wobbling orbits of their lives. There's an essential otherness.
Ma's still nodding. "You're the one who matters, though. Just you." I shake my head till it's wobbling because there's no just me.
On bikeback, there is a delightful sense of self-direction and autonomy. Lately, I have taken to cycling slowly, more fun than the fast, competitive commuter cycling I used to do. No longer do I jump lights or attempt that irritating wobbling thing that semi-professional cyclists like to indulge in.
Why, if we're hurtling through space, why would water stay still? Why is it not wobbling?
Atlas isn't carrying the world on his shoulders, no giant muscular hulk with a sense of responsibility; the world is balanced on a pyramid of clowns, and they are always tooting horns and wobbling and goosing each other.
You have to be stern in your voice, because if you are in there wavering and wobbling and fumbling over words, all the guys are going to be like, 'What is this guy doing in here, Coach? Get him out. Get someone else in.'
Sometimes it takes a brush with eternity - a crash, an illness, some shock to the system - to get you really thinking about what you want to do with your limited time here, and why you're living on this wobbling dirt clod in the first place.
The end of the world was supposed to be gradual. There was supposed to be warning. A long, slow slide. What we got was punctuated equilibrium: a stately wobbling, then a sudden tipping point. There was plenty of warning, I suppose. We just weren’t paying attention.
We must be willing to change chairs if we want to grow. There is no permanent compatibility between a chair and a person. And there is no one right chair. What is right at one stage may be restricting at another or too soft. During the passage from one stage to another, we will be between two chairs. Wobbling no doubt, but developing.
I feel like there's no need to put on a heel that's too high. There's nothing cute about wobbling. There's nothing cute about not wanting to dance or walk somewhere because you're in pain.
The man who meets with a failure attributes this failure rather to the ill will of another than to fate.
I have hour spurts when I feel fine and I can walk normal and stuff, other hours, I'm wobbling. I feel like there's somebody behind me kicking my legs out from underneath me. The whole tumor symptom thing is crazy. It's unpredictable. It really messes with your life.
Occasionally, there are battles in the sky. One likes to imagine the angels are always triumphant. One does not like to think of the ancient and terrible scales balancing the infernal and divine as wobbling back and forth. Tilting freely, to and fro. One does not like to think that sometimes it is the angel that falls.
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