I sometimes think it ironic for an ex-seaman, longshoreman, truck driver, policeman, bus driver, etc... to find success writing children's novels.
The truth is I've got the land on my back, an' it's drivin' me. Land is a hard driver.
I opened up a frozen-yogurt business out of college. I didnt finish college; I went halfway, and then I worked for Joel Silver, the producer, as a driver for a year.
Once you realize that documentation should be laughed at, peed upon, put on fire, and just ridiculed in general, then, and only then, have you reached the level where you can safely read it and try to use it to actually implement a driver.
There's no question young drivers have far more accidents than older ones - but is it our aim to keep them off the roads? Or to allow only rich young people (who can afford the premiums) to drive?
Willpower is the fuel that runs human life; Like a driver in a computer application, Or Operating System in cyber programme, Willpower works life to performances; Life is deadwood; life, robust carrion, Without willpower in bright flame within.
No music. No rituals. At home I write in my office or on the laptop in the kitchen where our puppy likes to sleep, and I love his company. But I've trained myself to be able to work anywhere, and I write on trains, planes, in automobiles (if I'm not the driver), airports, hotel rooms. I travel often. If I couldn't write wherever I was I would get little done. I also can write in short bursts. Fifteen minutes are enough to move a story forward.
A chef is a chef, a cook is a cook; a lorry driver is a lorry driver and a designer is a designer. I've never heard anyone say that Philippe Starck is a chef. The important thing is dialogue. If I said to Norman Foster that he was a chef he'd say "No", but he might have a dialogue with chefs. People have said to me for many years that I'm not a chef and that I'm an artist instead, but I always say, "No, I'm a chef." I just have dialogues with designers.
Just as our fingerprints are one-of-a-kind, so is our identity. Each of us is a once-only articulation of what humans can be. We are rare, unmatched, mysterious. This is why the quality of openness is so crucial to our self-discovery. We cannot know ourselves by who we think we are, who others take us to be, or what our driver's license may say. We are fields of potential, some now actualized, most not yet.
One of those professional drivers hit one of those blockade barriers. It was the first car accident I have ever been in, so I was a little startled.
We are not perfect. None of us is. I apologize for that flaw. I thank the governor for giving me a job with a driver.
Unlike conventional jocks, who tend to sell aluminum siding and give canned speeches to parochial-school athletic banquets in the off-season, race drivers never shuck their image when they leave the stadium. They are supposed to be zany, nomadic soldiers of fortune who are involved in wild endeavors during every waking moment.
Some critics of racing witlessly claim that spectators only attend to see someone die. This is utter and complete nonsense. I have been at numerous races where death is present. When a driver dies, the crowd symbolically dies, too. They come to see action at the brink: ultimate risk taking and the display of skill and bravery embodied in the sport's immortals like Nuvolari, Foyt, and thousands of others who operate at the ragged edge.
Why the hell not run a race across the United States? A balls-out, shoot-the-moon, f***-the-establishment rumble from New York to Los Angeles to prove what we had been harping about for years, for example, that good drivers in good automobiles could employ the American Interstate system the same way the Germans were using their Autobahns? Yes, make high-speed travel by car a reality! Truth and justice affirmed by an overtly illegal act.
Personally, I'm not interested in making device drivers look like user-level. They aren't, they shouldn't be, and microkernels are just stupid.
While accessory items and embedded features help minimize driver distraction, nothing replaces simple common-sense when using a cell phone in the car. Pull over to the side of the road to dial manually, know the features and functions of your phone before you drive and allow voice mail to pick up your calls if you are driving - these are all simple and commonsensical steps we can all take to minimize distraction from in-car cell phone use.
Rick Perry is now saying he thinks that Barack Obama's birth certificate is fake. I think Perry may have faked his driver's license.
When I first met with agents, they said, "Okay, you're going to play plumbers and mechanics and bus drivers and farmers. Go."
Everybody is different. You're always going to have disagreements with other drivers, unless you're not competitive and you never run good. I deal with everybody differently. Most guys, I have a lot of respect for and I'd like to keep it that way. So I try to communicate with them and find some common ground.
I am at a stage in my life where I want to only do thing that I love. I only want to do things that make me happy. Making money is important, but it's not my ultimate driver.
Your confidence is the 15th club in your bag. You'd like it to be a thick headed driver. But it sometimes seems like a pretty weak little stick.
People always seem to assume that we have a full, back-up support team - make-up, costume and a driver - but usually, in a war zone, there's only me and the cameraman.
Some representatives of monopolistic capitalism, sensing this evil in their system, have tried to silence criticism by pointing to the diffused ownership in the great corporations. They advertise, "No one owns more than 4 percent of the stock of this great company." Or they print lists of stockholders, showing that these include farmers, schoolteachers, baseball players, taxi drivers, and even babies.
But then again, you know, the pimp in TAXI DRIVER has this reason, given the environment he was living in.
Now this is over thirty years later and the guy said he was that cab driver. He apologized and he was serious. I felt awful. He might have been spending his whole life thinking he had jinxed me, but I told him he hadn't. My number was up.
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