Quotes About Car

I need to develop a car and engineer a car in a position that feels comfortable for me, and I don't think anyone can do a better job than I can in that position. The problem for me is if I can't get the car there I do struggle more than some.

My first car was kind of sad. My first car was when my parents had completely worn out their Toyota Corolla that they had for 16 years or something. They gave me, for my 19th birthday, this really ancient Toyota. So that was my first car. And I loved it. I thought it was amazing, and I drove it cross-country. It was not aesthetically appealing in any way. It was it fast. It did not handle well, but it lasted forever. I drove cross-country and back, and then I gave it to my sister, and she drove it for another 10 years.

Vegas is definitely a place where we can win. We had a good run here last year, and I feel even more confident about the car we're taking this time. We're taking the car that we raced in California two weeks ago, and it was obviously a good car.

It is perfectly legitimate to write novels which are essentially prose poems, but in the end, I think, a novel is like a car, and if you buy a car and grow flowers in it, you're forgetting that the car is designed to take you somewhere else.

Every twenty minutes on the Appalachian Trail, Katz and I walked farther than the average American walks in a week. For 93 percent of all trips outside the home, for whatever distance or whatever purpose, Americans now get in a car. On average the total walking of an American these days - that's walking of all types: from car to office, from office to car, around the supermarket and shopping malls - adds up to 1.4 miles a week, barely 350 yards a day.

You can't treat a car like a human being. A car requires love.

I just got a car, and I gotta say, this car is very cryptic. The very first day I drove it, a light came on out of nowhere: 'Check engine.' Could they be any more vague? What if a light came on and said, 'Problem'?

My favorite episode is where the guy has a relationship with his car. An intimate and sexual and emotional relationship with his car.

I have no problem spending money on a great meal with friends or a flight to see somebody that I love, versus something like a fancy car. I don't need a fancy car. I don't need a giant TV.

In the real world, if you're in a car chase, you're going to hit a million things and your car is going to end up a total wreck by the end.

Cornering is like bringing a woman to a climax. Both you and the car must work together. You start to enter the area of excitement at the corner, you set up a pace which is right for the car and after you've told it it is coming along with you, you guide it along at a rhythm which has by now become natural. Only after you've cleared the corner you can both take pleasure in knowing it's gone well.

You have to keep in mind that there's a number of logistical hurdles that they have to jump through in Europe in order to get explosives or guns. So for example, the Villejuif shooter in April 2015 who planned to attack a church: According to French press reports, he was instructed by ISIS to go to a sandwich shop, and the weapons would be waiting for him in a car parked outside. He was just told the make of the car, told to go there, told to pick them up. Putting that kind of attack together, using encrypted communications or other means, is not easy.

I listen to KCRW in the car and Pandora radio, which I stream through the stereo from my iPhone. I've been listening to everything from Caribou to Conway Twitty. If I'm going on a longer car ride, I'll download some podcasts.

Do you realize it’s been only a century that we’ve been able to go from house to car to office to car to wherever, with the heater on, and the defroster on, protected from the rain and the cold? It hasn’t been much longer than that we’ve had lighting for streets. Think of all that darkness, all that world out there, all that mystery that we’ve turned into well-lighted concrete bunkers, safe and warm and dull.

The days when a car aficionado could repair his or her own car are long past, due primarily to the high software content.

When theres no other dude in the car, the cost of taking an Uber anywhere becomes cheaper than owning a vehicle. So the magic there is, you basically bring the cost below the cost of ownership for everybody, and then car ownership goes away.

One day I locked my keys in my car and as I was standing there with a hanger halfway through the top of my window, a guy walks up and says, Lock yer keys in the car? Without missin' a beat I said, Nope, Just washed it and was hanging it up to dry. Here's your sign.

I hate modern car radios. In my car, I don't even have a push-button radio. It's just got a dial and two knobs. Just AM. One knob makes it louder, and one knob changes the station. When you're driving, that's all I want.

I don't know how to fix a car. If the car breaks down, and the gas tank does not say "E", I'm screwed. But if the gas tank says "E", I get all cocky - "I've got this one, don't worry." So I get out the toolbox AKA wallet.

You need someone to tell you how to do things like hitting your marks, or driving a car so it looks right or getting out of a car so it doesn't take a million years of screen time.

Just because your leg might heal doesn't mean it doesn't feel broken. It doesn't mean that a car hitting your body doesn't hurt like the same it would hurt if a car hit your body.

Am I a car aficionado? No: for me, cars have always been just for transport. I didn't even know anyone who had a car until I was 14 or 15.

Bless that which you want. If you see a person with a beautiful home, bless that person and bless that home. If you see a person with a beautiful car, bless that person and bless that car. If you see a person with a loving family, bless that person and bless that family. If you see a person with a beautiful body, bless that person and bless their body.

You can know or not know how a car runs and still enjoy riding in a car.

Let him treat you like a lady and open the car door for you. If he doesn't automatically open the door for you, stand by the darn thing and don't get into the vehicle until he realises he needs to get hid behind out of the driver's seat and come round and open the car door for you. That's his job!

I was in the car driving back, after having done a scene where I kill somebody, and I just said to the driver, "I can't talk right now. I'm too emotional." The whole car ride back, I was just crying.

I remember driving to North Carolina when I was a little girl in a snowstorm to get down to my mom's family in the Carolinas. There were chains on the car - it was the late sixties - and we were just singing in the car. Christmas carols.

White people scare the crap out of me. I have never been attacked by a black person, never been evicted by a black person, never had my security deposit ripped off by a black landlord, never had a black landlord, never been pulled over by a black cop, never been sold a lemon by a black car salesman, never seen a black car salesman, never had a black person deny me a bank loan, never had a black person bury my movie, and I've never heard a black person say, 'We're going to eliminate ten thousand jobs here - have a nice day!'

Switching over to a hybrid car is one of those right things, but, unfairly or not, it still has a reputation among car enthusiasts as something you have to pedal really fast when you're on the ramp merging into traffic on the 401.

I felt like a car that had only been operated by one driver… a car its new prospective buyer was determined to take to the Daytona 500.

I do sing in the car. I actually sing Britney Spears songs in the car - me and a close friend of mine. She lives in West Palm and I live in Miami, and when we're going back and forth to see each other, we sing: 'Oh, Baby Baby.' We sing all these 1990s songs. We're like two 14-year-old kids just having a good time.

But she did not take her eyes from the wheels of the second car. And exactly at the moment when the midpoint between the wheels drew level with her, she threw away the red bag, and drawing her head back into her shoulders, fell on her hands under the car, and with a light movement, as though she would rise immediately, dropped on her knees. And at the instant she was terror-stricken at what she was doing. 'Where am I? What am I doing? What for?' She tried to get up, to throw herself back; but something huge and merciless struck her on the head and dragged her down on her back.

The next day, Greg is so large that he cannot even ride the car to school because he can't fit in the car. His parents believe this to have been caused by a food allergy and resolve to take him to the doctor later.

We don't let a car company just throw out a car and start driving it around without checking that the wheels are fastened on. We know that would result in death; but for some reason we have no hesitation at throwing out some algorithms untested and unmonitored even when they're making very important life-and-death decisions.

My first car was a Chevy Cavalier. My dad somehow convinced me that it was a hot sports car because it was red.

It hurts me when I see a priest or a nun with the latest model car, you can't do this. A car is necessary to do a lot of work, but please, choose a more humble one. If you like the fancy one, just think about how many children are dying of hunger in the world.

You know the Model of your Car. You know just what its powers are. You treat it with a deal of care, Nor tax it more than it will bear. But as to self — that's different. Your mechanism may be bent, Your carbureter gone to grass, Your engine just a rusty mass. Your wheels may wobble and your cogs Be handed over to the dogs, And on you skip, and skid, and slide, Without a thought of things inside. What fools indeed we mortals are To lavish care upon a Car, With ne'er a bit of time to see About our own machinery!

If life is just a highway, then the soul is just a car. And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are.

Every time we fix something that broken, whether it's a car engine or a broken heart, that an act of magic. And what makes it magic is that we choose to create or help, just as we can choose to harm.

My car is so bad, I hit poles I'm not kidding I hit things all the times, I hit bushes it's really bad.

Any customer can have a car painted any color that he wants so long as it is black.

Madness will push you anywhere it wants. It never tells you where you're going, or why. It tells you it doesn't matter. It persuades you. It dangles something sparkly before you, shimmering like that water patch on the road up ahead. You will drive until you find it, the treasure, the thing you most desire. You will never find it. Madness may mock you so long you will die of the search. Or it will tire of you, turn its back, oblivious as you go flying. The car is beside you, smoking, belly-up, still spinning its wheels.

I dont mean to in any way impugn the makers of Bentley, but that car is nuts. When I do drive, I drive a Toyota Prius. So driving around the streets of Albuquerque in a Bentley made me feel so fake-a-rooney.

Writers now are putting total faith in designers at Apple and Amazon. It's almost like a race-car driver having no input into how cars are designed.

Early on, I used to think it was really cool and macho to jump out of the car and tackle the bad guy. But then when you see the stunts in the movie, you realize it could've been a lady in a poncho.

What I always tell people is... Unless you are so passionate about filmmaking that you would rather live out of your car than not do it, find something else to do as a career and do filmmaking as a hobby. This industry is one of the hardest to break into and be successful. It takes a lot of passion and dedication for it to get anywhere.

Usually I do a practice in the morning first and then meditate. I'm fortunate that I can do it in a car, in a bus, in a plane.

She had, without realizing it at the time, learned to follow Nick's gaze, learned to learn his lust...his desires remained memorized within her. She looked at the attractive women he would look at...She had become him: she longed for these women. But she was also herself, and so she despised them. She lusted after them, but she also wanted to beat them up. A rapist. She had become a rapist, driving to work in a car.