This car is more fun than the entire French air force crashing into a firework factory.
Speed has never killed anyone. Suddenly becoming stationary, that's what gets you.
A turbo: exhaust gasses go into the turbocharger and spin it, witchcraft happens and you go faster.
Some say that he has no understanding of clouds, and that his ear wax tastes like Turkish Delight. All we know is he’s called the Stig.
Koenigsegg are saying that the CCX is more comfortable. More comfortable than what BEING STABBED?
Supercars are supposed to run over Arthur Scargill and then run over him again for good measure. They are designed to melt ice caps, kill the poor, poison the water table, destroy the ozone layer, decimate indigenous wildlife, recapture the Falkland Islands and turn the entire third world into a huge uninhabitable desert, all that before they nicked all the oil in the world.
This is the Renault Espace, probably the best of the people carriers. Not that that's much to shout about. That's like saying “Ooh good I've got syphilis, the BEST of the sexually transmitted diseases.”
Ooh good I've got syphilis, the BEST of the sexually transmitted diseases.
That [Pagani] Zonda, really! It’s like a lion in orange dungarees. Kind of fierce, but ridiculous all at the same time.
Think of it as Angelina Jolie. You’ve heard she’s mad and eats nothing but wallpaper paste. But you would, wouldn’t you?
If you were to buy a [BMW] 6-series, I recommend you select reverse when leaving friends’ houses so they don’t see its backside.
Owning a TVR in the past was like owning a bear. I mean it was great, until it pulled your head off, which it would.
God may have created the world in six days, but while he was resting on the seventh, Beelzebub popped up and did this place.
I’d like to consider Ferrari as a scaled down version of God.
Tonight, the new Viper, which is the American equivalent of a sportscar in the same way, I guess, that George Bush is the equivalent of a President.
I don't often agree with the RSPCA as I believe it is an animal's duty to be on my plate at supper time.
Usually, a Range Rover would be beaten away from the lights by a diesel powered wheelbarrow.
Some say he never blinks, and that he roams around the woods at night foraging for wolves. All we know is he’s called the Stig.
Now we get quite a lot of complaints that we don't feature enough affordable cars on the show so we'll kick off tonight with the cheapest Ferrari of them all!
The problem is that television executives have got it into their heads that if one presenter on a show is a blonde-haired, blue-eyed heterosexual boy, the other must be a black Muslim lesbian.
Some say he isn’t machine washable, and all his potted plants are called ‘Steve’. All we know is he’s called the Stig.
The Americans lecture the world on democracy and then won’t let me turn the traction control off!
The air conditioning in Lamborghinis used to be an asthmatic sitting in the dashboard blowing at you through a straw.
Driving most supercars is like trying to manhandle a cow up a back staircase, but this is like smearing honey onto Keira Knightley.
I'm sorry, but having an Aston Martin DB9 on the drive and not driving it is a bit like having Keira Knightley in your bed and sleeping on the couch.
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