Whim

We must be careful not to punish the whim or wham the whim with whatnot. The whim within, the whim without, the whim whom folly molds in wobbly wonder. The whim of whims, which is a worldly whim, and is whimful with whimfallity. The inscrutability of the whim is notably willy-nilly. The whim whims to whim itself. The boil of the whim loiters in ham. The whimsical whim has goose whimples. To ogle a whim is to whim oneself into whimsiness. Heideggerian whims hold Being as it moves toward the shore in ripples of time. Whipples of Rhyme that rim the whim in lime. The whim, the great whim, the whim of whims, is whittles and wheels. The wink of the whim is tender. The lion of whims is wholesome and wide. The whale is awash in whim. The whim is full of mirth and mirth is a mirror of life. The whim protects the mileage of the old. The solutions of whims merge on the play of isms. The philosophy of the whim is puzzling but suggests a superstructure of moose antlers. The shortcake whim is a bolt in the door of time. The whim that is wisdom is a wiliness of whims. The guava whim, the jerk whim, the hallelujah hallway haphazard whim. Synthetic whims do not work. They decline into checkers. The true whim is an outcropping in polite society, intrinsically fluid, thermodynamically preposterous. Ladies and gentlemen, we stand at the end of empire, cradling whims in our thoughts, holding to them dearly, as newly ordained codicils to a rip tide of fools.