I'm simply stating that I'm not leaving my destiny to the whim of a man.
Naturally white-blonde, she'd dyed it pink on a whim last weekend.
This was a digression of a new kind, if anything can be called a digression in a work the plan of which is to fly off at a tangent whenever and wherever the writer's whim tempts him.
That was no sudden whim on the writer's part.
He was the creature of every passing mood or whim, incapable of cool and steady judgment or of the slightest self-control - an incalculable weathercock, blindly obsequious to every blast of passion.