You know those balls that they put on car antennas so you can find them in the parking lot? Those should be on every car!
When I was 12 years old, I was just horrible. My parents were ashamed to watch my matches. I would play on a court at the local club and they would watch from the balcony. They would scream, 'Be quiet' to me and I would scream back, 'Go and have a drink. Leave me alone.' Then we would drive home in a very quiet car. No one speaking to each other.
A tax cut means higher family income and higher business profits and a balanced federal budget.
The armored cars of dreams, contrived to let us do so many a dangerous thing.
Everywhere, giant finned cars nose forward like fish; a savage servility slides by on grease.
Ironically my brother died in a car accident shortly after Airbag was recorded. He's not an identical twin so I didn't care.
I hate cars. They are so loud, and ugly, and full of toxic exhaust, like radiohead fans.
I'm absolutely terrified that people can get into cars. It's like the car is a face, and the headlight is eyes, and when you open the car door it's like you're climbing into the ears. (I cannot) be inside a giant rolling robot head.
If I was made of chocolate I would melt myself in a car to ruin the interior.
In a Society becoming steadily more privatized with private homes, cars, computers, offices and shopping centers, the public component of our lives is disappearing. It is more and more important to make the cities inviting, so we can meet our fellow citizens face to face and experience directly through our senses. Public life in good quality public spaces is an important part of a democratic life and a full life.
I've already established my (political)machinery. It's like a car. It's fixed already. You just have to get in and drive it.
If I'm ever in a weird car accident, or I commit suicide or something, after the media stops celebrating my death, could they check into it? Because I'm not suicidal. And I'm a pretty good driver.
If you log onto this (Cars.gov) at your home, everything in your home is now theirs.
The years I raced in were fantastic. There was so much change in the cars. We went from treaded tyres to no wings right through to slicks to enormous wings.
If you were charged with fixing the U.S. auto industry, how would you do it? The guys who run the auto companies are out of touch with their customers and their employees. They ride to work in their limousines. They go up in their elevators and lock themselves in their offices. They don't walk out into the plants. They wouldn't even drive in the neighborhoods where their employees live. They give themselves big bonuses when the company isn't making any money. I'd make them get involved with the people who are building the cars. They've got to become real people.
In people's eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment in June.
Take most people, they are crazy about cars. They worry if they get a little scratch on them, they are always talking about have many miles they get to a gallon, and if they get a brand new car already they start thinking about trading it in for one that is even newer. I do not even like old cars. . . . I'd rather have a horse. A horse is at least human, for God's sake.
Most of the soap operas always use the Christmas special to kill huge quantities of their characters. So they have trams coming off their rails, or cars slamming into each other or burning buildings. It's a general clean-out.
People have nannies and big cars, and they want to go to Maui for Christmas. When there are those kind of stakes involved, people get ruthless.
The people who are always hankering loudest for some golden yesteryear usually drive new cars.
I felt suicidal. I couldn't stop crying. I remember thinking, wouldn't it be great if the car crashed and I died?
A salesman, like the storage battery in your car, is constantly discharging energy. Unless he is recharged at frequent intervals he soon runs dry. This is one of the greatest responsibilities of sales leadership.
It drives me crazy to see so much of this planet's life so casually endangered. The first steps are so easy (drive smaller cars, for instance) that it's very hard to understand why we haven't taken them. But I know that this is the issue our generation will be judged by.
Men are superior to women. For one thing, men can urinate from a speeding car.
If you think Abraham Lincoln became famous for inventing the town car, it is time to spend a few hours on history.
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