Stammer Quotes

“[...]if you talk any more flummery to me, Frederica, I shall give you one of my—er—icy set-downs!”(Alverstoke)”
― Georgette Heyer, Frederica

“Fear the soldier who stammers, for he is very fast at pulling the triger.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson

“Before i could utter a word, my listeners had left me long ago.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson

“Most often when I stammer
That's my brain
Correcting my grammer.”
― Joyce Rachelle

“I may be deprived of eloquence, but my mind can never be a dumb.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson

“I may have stumbled
and stammered at
your unexpected push,
but the breeze
anchored me
and I learnt the
art of survival”
― Vijaya Gowrisankar

“When you see a stranger, your mouth start dancing like convulsion.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson

“Frank treated customers with the contempt Rosy had only seen before at airport passport control. Even then, she’d never heard an immigration official refer to anybody as baldy.
“Hey, baldy,” Frank had said and whistled to call a customer back as though he were down in the paddock with an unruly herd. “You forgot your juice.”
Frank held up the bottle of Tropicana orange juice. And when… baldy came back, Frank slapped the bottle into his hand as though passing him the baton in a relay race, then waved the man aside—“Go!”—and pointed at the next customer.
“What do you want?” Frank said. “Cheese? Again? That’s three cheese you’ll have had in a row. Are you eating right?”
The customer stammered.
“Eh-but-eh-but-eh-but,” Frank mimicked. “Never mind. But think up a different filling next time. And not cheese and tomato.” He shook his head and made up the roll.”
― R.G. Manse, Screw Friendship

“When their chatter died to a contented lull, a small red squirrel ventured out of the oak grove and turned to the side, watching them with one bright black eye.
"An intruder," Annabelle observed, with a delicate yawn.
Evie rolled to her stomach and tossed a bread crust in the squirrel's direction. He froze and stared at the tantalizing offering, but was too timid to advance. Evie tilted her head, her hair glittering in the sun as if it had been overlaid with a net of rubies. "Poor little thing," she said softly, casting another crust at the timid squirrel. This one landed a few inches closer, and his tail twitched eagerly. "Be brave," Evie coaxed. "Go on and take it." Smiling tolerantly, she tossed another crust, which landed a scant few inches from him. "Oh, Mr. Squirrel," Evie reproved. "You're a dreadful coward. Can't you see that no one's going to harm you?"
In a sudden burst of initiative, the squirrel seized the tidbit and scampered off with his tail quivering. Looking up with a triumphant smile, Evie saw the other wallflowers staring at her in drop-jawed silence. "Wh-what is it?" she asked, puzzled.
Annabelle was the first to speak. "Just now, when you were talking to that squirrel, you didn't stammer."
"Oh." Suddenly abashed, Evie lowered her gaze and grimaced. "I never stammer when I'm talking to children or animals. I don't know why.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Secrets of a Summer Night

“He concluded the speech with an irritated motion of his hands.
Unfortunately, Evie had been conditioned by too many encounters with Uncle Peregrine to discern between angry gestures and the beginnings of a physical attack. She flinched instinctively, her own arms flying up to shield her head. When the expected pain of a blow did not come, she let out a breath and tentatively lowered her arms to find Sebastian staring at her with blank astonishment.
Then his face went dark.
"Evie," he said, his voice containing a bladelike ferocity that frightened her. "Did you think I was about to... Christ. Someone hit you. Someone hit you in the past---who the hell was it?" He reached for her suddenly---too suddenly---and she stumbled backward, coming up hard against the wall. Sebastian went very still. "Goddamn," he whispered. Appearing to struggle with some powerful emotion, he stared at her intently. After a long moment, he spoke softly. "I would never strike a woman. I would never harm you. You know that, don't you?"
Transfixed by the light, glittering eyes that held hers with such intensity, Evie couldn't move or make a sound. She started as he approached her slowly. "It's all right," he murmured. "Let me come to you. It's all right. Easy." One of his arms slid around her, while he used his free hand to smooth her hair, and then she was breathing, sighing, as relief flowed through her. Sebastian brought her closer against him, his mouth brushing her temple. "Who was it?" he asked.
"M-my uncle," she managed to say. The motion of his hand on her back paused as he heard her stammer.
"Maybrick?" he asked patiently.
"No, th-the other one."
"Stubbins."
"Yes." Evie closed her eyes in pleasure as his other arm slid around her. Clasped against Sebastian's hard chest, with her cheek tucked against his shoulder, she inhaled the scent of clean male skin, and the subtle touch of sandalwood cologne.
"How often?" she heard him ask. "More than once?"
"I... i-it's not important now."
"How often, Evie?"
Realizing that he was going to persist until she answered, Evie muttered, "Not t-terribly often, but... sometimes when I displeased him, or Aunt Fl-Florence, he would lose his temper. The l-last time I tr-tried to run away, he blackened my eye and spl-split my lip."
"Did he?" Sebastian was silent for a long moment, and then he spoke with chilling softness. "I'm going to tear him limb from limb."
"I don't want that," Evie said earnestly. "I-I just want to be safe from him. From all of them."
Sebastian drew his head back to look down into her flushed face. "You are safe," he said in a low voice. He lifted one of his hands to her face, caressing the plane of her cheekbone, letting his fingertip follow the trail of pale golden freckles across the bridge of her nose. As her lashes fluttered downward, he stroked the slender arcs of her brows, and cradled the side of her face with his palm. "Evie," he murmured. "I swear on my life, you will never feel pain from my hands. I may prove a devil of a husband in every other regard... but I wouldn't hurt you that way. You must believe that."
The delicate nerves of her skin drank in sensations thirstily... his touch, the erotic waft of his breath against her lips. Evie was afraid to open her eyes, or to do anything that might interrupt the moment. "Yes," she managed to whisper. "Yes... I---"
There was the sweet shock of a probing kiss against her lips... another... She opened to him with a slight gasp. His mouth was hot silk and tender fire, invading her with gently questing pressure. His fingertips traced over her face, tenderly adjusting the angle between them.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Winter

“ “I’m going to meet your parents this weekend and we’ve got plans?”
Her face reddened. “Sorry. I, um, assumed that, you know, that since you said I was yours, that we would kind of, I guess …” Damn, she was cute when she stammered.”
― Katie McGarry, Pushing the Limits

“Daisy truly l-loves Mr. Swift," Evie said earnestly.
At the sound of her stammer, which was something else Lillian warned him about, Rafe gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm glad to hear it," he said gently.”
― Lisa Kleypas, A Wallflower Christmas

“Being a stutterer feels like being a writer without a pen!”
― paul sachudhanandam

“Stuttering is more of a thing of the mind, than that of the tongue”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, Stamerenophobia