Bike Wash Quotes

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you

sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills

let the storm wash the plates. ~ Edwin Morgan

How we fund transportation in this country is broken. You all pay a gasoline tax, right? Well, cars go farther, we get electric cars, and so on. And then we do more with the money than just build roads. We do bike lanes and mass transit. ~ Kevin McCarthy

Lambretta

It doesn't get much better
Though I'm trying to forget her
That girl on that Lambretta
Stole my heart.
But my feelings just got fonder
As she disappeared off yonder
But I couldn't get my Honda
Bike to start.
So I'll admit defeat
It's not partial, it's complete
'Cos I'll never get to meet
That work of art.
Now I've ceased to be a suitor
I imagine that'll suit her
An' I 'ope her rotten scooter
Falls apart. ~ Robbie Franklin

I love to ride my bike, which is great aerobics, but also just a great time for me to think, so it's like this terrific double bill. ~ Robin Williams

He had dreadlocks, which is what some black people have, but he was white, and dreadlocks is when you never wash your hair and it looks like old rope. ~ Mark Haddon

The bike would be finished this
summer and Papi would be fine, and Janice and all the
other concerned medical professionals could take their
long-term care facility and shove it, while the rest of us
ate empanadas and laughed about that one summer Papi
almost lost his mind. ~ Sarah Ockler

What does a woman do as she waits for her man? She may wash her hair, put on makeup, choose the kind of outfit any woman would be eager to try on, spray on perfume, and look at herself one last time in the mirror. If she does these things, it's when she and the man she's waiting for are in love. It's different when a woman waits for a man she still loves but who has broken up with her, because the pure joy of it is missing. Loving someone is like carving words into the back of your hand. Even if the others can't see the words, they, like glowing letters, stand out in the eyes of the person who's left you. Right now, that's enough for me. ~ Kyung-ran Jo

I wanted the bike to be able to go over all kinds of terrains and especially infinite and poetic territories, ~ Philippe Starck

It's a fact of life that we dream while we're asleep. Try as you may, such a thing cannot be avoided. It's when we wake up, however, that we see two types of people emerge. On the one hand are doers, and on the other are dreamers.
When doers wake up, that's it, their dreams are over, and in general, they're content with this. They wash their faces, brush their teeth, and go about their business hoping nothing strange or our of the ordinary will happen along the way. Doers don't do much original thinking and they don't do surprises and they won't ever do anything unexpected or anything someone hasn't already done before. But they are called doers, after all, so they must do something and they do. In fact, doers do the same something over and over and over again. This is called routine, and doers are very good at routine.
Dreamers are different.
When dreamers wake up, their dreams have only just begun. They wash their faces and brush their teeth and open the front door hoping everything strange and out of the ordinary is waiting for them. Dreamers like asking questions that have never been asked before and doing things that have never been done before in ways that no one has ever though of before. ~ Nicholas Gannon

In harvesting of evil deeds, the human race is busy; and doing so is to taste the pangs of Hell ... The piling up of wealth is the piling up of others' property; what one thus storeth formeth but provisions for one's enemies ... I wash off human scandal by devotion true; and by my zeal, I satisfy the Deities. By compassion, I subdue the demons; all blame I scatter to the wind, and upward turn my face. ~ Milarepa

Always wash you feet last. ~ James Cardenas

Perhaps this agony will wash away in the shower. ~ E.L. James

You live more for 5 minutes going fast on a bike than other people do in all of their life. ~ Marco Simoncelli

Inside her chest, a warm, billowing, something swept through her, to the tips of her fingers, the bottoms of her feet, shining like a brilliant beam of light. It wasn't hot, boiling feeling of her temper, nor was it the cold wash of tingles that Swearing on Silver brought. It was deeper. It didn't just pour through her body, but penetrated her soul. ~ Heather Dixon

Juliette felt a wash of fear and relief, those two opposites twisting together like staircase and rail. ~ Hugh Howey

I used to wash my hands every ten minutes. I couldn't step out of the house unless I had gloves on. I wouldn't smoke a cigarette unless I opened the pack myself, and I would never use another cigarette out of that pack if someone else had touched it. ~ Joan Crawford

If you had a cancer on your skin and had it burned it off, you'd wash it and clean it every day. ~ Nick Nolte

The bicycle, the bicycle surely, should always be the vehicle of novelists and poets. ~ Christopher Morley

You ready to go home?" I asked.
"I've been ready to go home all night. I still hate you."
"You need to find new insults. That's getting old."
"Fuck off."
Grinning, I climbed onto my bike. She climbed up behind me, tucking in tight and wrapping her arms around my waist, tits pressed against my back. For the first time in forever things in my world felt right, twisted as that sounds.
She was mine. She'd always be mine. ~ Joanna Wylde

Just come back, I was thinking. You've been gone long enough. Just come back. I will stop traveling; I will wash your clothes. ~ Patti Smith

Yeah, weirdly, our cell doesn't have laundry facilities. So I figured I'll wash undies at one time and outerwear at another, anyways keeping some cover for the cameras. I'm not shy, but frankly, I've had my limit of men chubbing themselves to videos of me. It's moved from simple idolatry to something more sinister." She sauntered over to his desk, hopping atop it, sitting on his papers. "A little to Caged Heat, you know? ~ Kresley Cole

Jay insisted on carrying her up the back steps and into the kitchen, and this time Violet didn't complain when he lifted her. He set her down gently on the kitchen counter, and then he rummaged through the cupboard while Violet told him where the Band-Aids were. He came with bandages, gauze, cotton balls, antibacterial wash, and two tubes of ointment. It seemed like overkill to Violet, but she didn't say anything. She wanted to see what he planned to do.
"Okay, this is probably gonna sting," he warned as he leaned over and began cleaning her wounds.
It did sting, more than Violet let on, and she had to bite her lip as the tears came back all over again. But she let him keep working without even flinching, which was no small feat as he stripped away the layers of dirt from her skin.
The wounds were big, and round, and raw. She thought she looked like a little kid with the giant scrapes on her knees, and she imagined that they were going to scab over and possibly even scar. She felt like such an idiot for falling over her own two clumsy feet.
But Jay was gentle, and he took his time, being careful not to hurt her. She admired his patience and took perverse pleasure in his touch. He didn't look up to see how she was doing; he just kept working until he was satisfied that her scrapes were cleaned out. And then he picked up the antibacterial wash and some cotton balls.
Violet sucked in her breath when he brushed the soaked cotton ball against the angry red ~ Kimberly Derting

My Range Rover is great for LA. You can take surfboards on it and stick some bikes in the back. And if you kidnap people you could tie them up in the back, there's space for your chloroform ... ~ Gerard Butler

I like to work in watercolor, with as little under-drawing as I can get away with. I like the unpredictability of a medium which is affected as much by humidity, gravity, the way that heavier particles in the wash settle into the undulations of the paper surface, as by whatever I wish to do with it. In other mediums you have more control, you are responsible for every mark on the page - but with watercolor you are in a dialogue with the paint, it responds to you and you respond to it in turn. Printmaking is also like this, it has an unpredictable element. This encourages an intuitive response, a spontaneity which allows magic to happen on the page. When I begin an illustration, I usually work up from small sketches - which indicate in a simple way something of the atmosphere or dynamics of an illustration; then I do drawings on a larger scale supported by studies from models - usually friends - if figures play a large part in the picture. When I've reached a stage where the drawing looks good enough I'll transfer it to watercolor paper, but I like to leave as much unresolved as possible before starting to put on washes. This allows for an interaction with the medium itself, a dialogue between me and the paint. Otherwise it is too much like painting by number, or a one-sided conversation. ~ Alan Lee (artist)

If you want to love him, you have to wash away the past. Only you can do this, my dear. You must go away, to the sea, perhaps. And you must bathe away all the fears and all the hurts given you by your history. ~ Jasinda Wilder

Syn soaped and bathed his body from head to toe. "Can I wash your hair?" "Yes," was all Furi managed to say. ~ A.E. Via

My younger brother will remember that he received a transistor radio for Christmas. I took it apart and it never worked again. ~ Stephen Elop

There is no work better than to please God; to pour water, to wash dishes, to be a cobbler, or an apostle, all are one; to wash dishes and to preach are all one, as touching the deed, to please God. ~ William Tyndale

Half-formed ideas, they float around. They come from different places, and the mind has got this wonderful way of somehow just shoveling them around until one day they fit. They may fit not so well, and then we go for a bike ride or something, and it's better."12 ~ Walter Isaacson

Anyone who rides a bike is a friend of mine. ~ Gary Fisher

This is the first time I'm meeting your dad and your brothers ... all at the same time ... and you want me to calm down?" I said, climbing onto his bike behind him.
He angled his neck, touching my cheek as he kissed me. "They're going to love you, just like I do. ~ Jamie McGuire

In Paris, I rent a bike in the street and cycle around, and in L.A. I live up in the hills so I go hiking a lot. ~ Diane Kruger

Thinking about somebody every day of his life ... oh yes, he said to himself. Oh yes, you do. You think about somebody. He fills your world. He is all about you, a presence, and you think about him; you can't help it, because he's always there, in your thoughts. But you know, of course, that all the while you're thinking about him, he's not thinking about you. That's the hardest thing about it. That's what makes it so very, very hard to bear. So hard that sometimes you just sit there and let the misery wash over you; the misery, the emptiness. ~ Alexander McCall Smith

The Empress Sabina had long ago formed her own theory about the nonsense in travel books. No traveler, having gone to the expense and trouble of venturing where most civilized people were too sensible to go, was going to come home and admit that it had been a waste of time. Instead, he had to pronounce his destination to be full of strange wonders, like the elk with no knees that could be caught by sabotaging the tree against which it leaned when it slept (Julius Caesar) or the men from India who could wrap themselves in their own ears (reported by the elder Pliny, who seemed to have written down everything he was ever told), or the blue-skinned Britons (Julius Caesar again).
Strangely, no traveler had ever brought one of these creatures home for inspection. Doubtless they were impossible to capture, or died on the journey, or the blue came off in the wash. ~ Ruth Downie

I think I look good for my age. I've always looked younger than I really am. I'm 67 and I look about, maybe 62 or something like that. And I think my healthy lifestyle has paid off. I suffer from osteoarthritis. That's genetic and there's nothing I can do about that, except to try and not jump up and down, but rather swim and bike, instead of jumping up and down. ~ Jane Fonda

Water never waits. It changes shape and floes around things, and finds the secret paths no one else thought about __ the tiny hole through the roof or the bottom of a box. There's no doubt it's the most versatile of the five elements. It can wash away earth, it can put out fire; it can wear a piece of metal down and can sweep it away. Even wood, which is its natural complement, can'survive without being nurtured by water. ~ Arthur Golden

Clean your face," I said to the child. "It's dirty." "It's not," the child said. "By God it is," I said, "filth adheres in ine areas which I shall enumerate." "That is because of the dough," the child said. "We were taking death masks." "Dough!" I exclaimed, shocked at the idea that the child had wasted flour and water and no doubt paper too in this lightsome pastime, taking death masks. "Death!" I exclaimed for added emphasis. "What do you know of death?" "It is the end of the world," the child said, "for the death-visited individual. The world ends," the child said, "when you turn out your eyes." This was true, I could not dispute it. I returned to the main point. "Your father is telling you to wash your face," I said, locating myself in the abstract where I was more comfortable. ~ Donald Barthelme

Growing up in New York City, my car culture is minimal. I rode on the train, the bus. I walked; I rode my bike, and when I was younger, I rode my skateboard. ~ Ramon Rodriguez

Nobody's happy. What's happy? Happiness is over when the lights come on."
The older woman poured herself a glass of sangria. "Screw that," she said quietly.
"What?"
"Screw that. Wash your mouth out. Who taught you that half-assed existential drivel? ~ Armistead Maupin

What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes! Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red." "My hands are of your colour; but I shame to wear a heart so white. A little water clears us of this deed: How easy it is then! Your constancy hath left you unattended. ~ William Shakespeare

A freelance life, a life in the arts, is sometimes like putting messages in bottles, on a desert island, and hoping that someone will find one of your bottles and open it and read it, and put something in a bottle that will wash its way back to you: appreciation, or a commision, or money, or love. And you have to accept that you may put out a hundred things for every bottle that winds up coming back. ~ Neil Gaiman

This is an extra letter in the middle of the month because I'm rather lonely tonight. It's awfully stormy; the snow is beating against my tower. All the lights are out on the campus, but I drank black coffee and I can't go to sleep.
I had a supper party this evening consisting of Sallie and Julia and Leonora Fenton - and sardines and toasted muffins and salad and fudge and coffee. Julia said she'd had a good time, but Sallie stayed to help wash the dishes. ~ Jean Webster

If we buy a bike, will you travel? Will you brave the ferry? ~ Rosalie Marsh

If we wish to wash our hands of the Jews blasphemy and not share in their guilt, we have to part company with them. They must be driven from our country. ~ Martin Luther