Car Door Quotes

He's not my boyfriend. We only went out a few times, you know." She leaned back against the car door. "Besides, I ended things recently - not sure if you heard." He leaned forward, his arms on both sides of her, a smug smile forming. "Oh yeah? Why's that?" She held back a grin. "Well, see, some other guy kissed me, so . . ." She left off with a shrug. His lips twitched. "And you liked it." "Maybe." He leaned closer. "In fact, you liked it so much, you want him to kiss you again." "I might not turn him down. ~ Denise Hunter

Ignisecond, n.: The overlapping moment of time when the hand is locking the car door even as the brain is saying, "my keys are in there!" ~ Rich Hall

Gertie hit the brakes and tried to stop, but she tripped over a lip in the sidewalk and went sprawling right into the burro, then hit the pavement, her tutu skirt flipped up over her back, exposing her camouflage underwear. Tiny swung his head around to see what all the racket was and launched off the car door, setting off down the sidewalk toward the burro-Gertie wreck at high speed. ~ Jana Deleon

You were supposed to be on that elevator with him," Tristan said from behind us. "If you don't make it to the car before he does, believe me, he will drop the both of you on the spot"
Atticus and I glanced at each for a second, before I took off my heels and bolted towards the stairs.
"Are you insane? There are at least 60 flights of stairs!" Atticus yelled after me, but I ignored him, running as quickly as I could.
AsI reached the 49th level, Ipushed open the door and dashed towards the elevator, pressing the botton over and over again, as if my life depended on it.
"Ma'am?" a security guard asked, coming towards me. Fortunately, the doors opened, and sure enough there was Levi reading his paper.
"I work for him!" I shouted, pointing to Levi, as I jumped inside.
He looked up at me, confused as I entered gasping.
"I would have been more impressed if you ran down all of the stairs," he said, no longer interested in me. As I stood there trying to catch my breath, he continued reading.
"Fuck you"
"Excuse me?" he turned back to look at me, his eyes narrowing.
"Achoo," I sneezed. "Excuse me," I lied and he knew it, but I put my heels back on anyway.
"Where's Atticus?" he asked as the doors opened.
"I don't know maybe he just isn't hungry for-" I stopped, seeing Atticus already standing at the car door.
Levi looked back to me. "He wins. ~ J.J. McAvoy

Don't be stupid. You're a child. You don't know what it means to be in love. And she flung open the car door as if she wished she had the strength to rip it from the hinges, and stalked off to the house through the rain.
That night, I lay in bed, troubled by what she'd said, blocking out the sounds of argument from my parents' room. Was love what my parents had? Yelling at eachother, worrying about money? Never smiling? Never happy? If that was love, then I didn't want it. ~ Barry Lyga

The growl that permeated the room was loud enough to rattle the mirror on the wall next to Qhuinn's head - as well as the silver brush set on the bureau and the crystals on the sconces by the door. At first he was sure it was Phury…except then the Brother's brows came down hard and the male looked over his shoulder.

Layla was out of bed and closing in on the pair of them - and holy fucking shit, the look in her eyes was enough to melt paint off a car door: In spite of the fact that she was not well, her fangs were bared, and her fingers were curled into claws…and the icy draft that preceded her made the back of Qhuinn's neck prickle in warning.

That growl was nothing that should have come out of a male…much less a delicate female of Chosen status.

And if anything, her nasty tone of voice was worse: "Let. Him. Go."

She was looking up at Phury as if she were fully prepared to rip the Brother's arms out of their sockets and beat him with the stumps if he didn't do exactly what she said. Pronto ~ J.R. Ward

So this is Canada," I said, looking outside my car door.
"For the last time, it's not Canada," Sydney replied, rolling her eyes. "It's northern Michigan."
I glanced around, seeing nothing but enormous trees in every direction. Despite it being a late August afternoon, the temperature could've easily passed for something in autumn. Craning my head, I just barely caught a glimpse of gray waters beyond the trees to my right: Lake Superior, according to the map I'd seen.
"Maybe it's not Canada," I conceded. "But it's exactly how I always imagined Canada would look. Except I thought there'd be more hockey. ~ Richelle Mead

When we arrived, my sisters pulled the wheelchair out of the trunk and placed it next to the car door. They opened the door and Jennifer leaned down and with one swift motion lifted me up like a nearly weightless child and placed me in the chair. I laughed it off.
"My sister's strong. She's really strong," I boasted on her behalf.
Sara, Katherine, and Jennifer were laughing the whole time because I didn't realize how scrawny I was, how much weight I had lost. Jennifer could pick me up with no problem because I practically weighed nothing at all. ~ Noah Galloway

The Affordable Health Care for Americans Act, passed by the House of Representatives on November 7, 2009, was 1,990 pages long. You could stand on it to paint the ceiling. The entire U.S. Constitution can be printed on eight pages. That's eight pages to run a whole country for 221 years versus four reams of government pig latin if you slam your thumb in a car door. ~ P. J. O'Rourke

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! ~ Steve Harvey

I shut the car door as quietly as possible and quickly maneuvered to the front porch, climbing the steps two at a time, and rushing to the door. I knocked. Loudly. Several times. And then I waited.

My heart was lodged in my throat so I tried to swallow past it. I couldn't show weakness. I needed to be tough.

I can be tough. I nodded, shifting from one foot to the other. I can be real tough. You can't be a sissy and make fifty loaves of bread in a day. That's a lot of kneading. I'm tough as nails. I'm basically the Rocky Balboa of bakers. I'm unstoppable! Aint nobody gunna -

The door swung open. I jumped back a half step. My voice failed me. ~ Penny Reid

I'm not sure if all Syrena have bulletproof endurance or if Galen is particularly blessed with it. Even now, as I lock the front dead bolt while Mark holds his car door open for me, Galen is blowing up my cell. I slide into the passenger seat of the pickup truck and try to organize my face into a convincing expression of relaxed, even though my insides are twisting faster than a whirlpool.
I thought Galen had given up trying to talk to me. I mean, what else is there to say? He played me like an Xbox. A broom and dustpan couldn't clean up all the pieces of my heart he shattered. I've been so stupid. But not anymore. ~ Anna Banks

My father peed like a horse. His urine lowed in one great sweeping dream that started suddenly and stopped just as suddenly, a single, winking arc of shimmering clarity that endured for a prodigious interval and then disappeared in an instant, as though the outflow were a solid object - and arch of glittering ice or a thick band of silver - and not (as it actually approximated) a parabolic, dynamically averaged graph of the interesting functions of gravity, air resistance, and initial velocity on a non-viscous fluid, produced and exhibited by a man who'd just consumed more than a gallon of midwestern beer. The flow was as clear as water. When it struck the edge of the gravel shoulder, the sound was like a bed-sheet being ripped. Beneath this high reverberation, he let out a protracted appreciative whistle that culminated in a tunneled gasp, his lips flapping at the close like a trumpeters. In the tiny topsoil, a gap appeared, a wisp entirely unashamed. Bernie bumped about in the cargo bay. My father moved up close to peer through the windshield, zipping his trousers and smiling through the glass at my mother. I realized that the yellow that should have been in his urine was unmistakable now in his eyes.

'Thank goodness,' my mother said when the car door closed again. 'I was getting a little bored in here. ~ Ethan Canin

How'd it go?" I said, trying to sound indifferent. "He took it like a champ." She opened the back car door for Clay. He lifted his head and stood with obvious effort. Then he hopped down with care and pathetically climbed the deck steps to my side. I stared at him for a moment. "What'd they do to him?" Rachel shook her head and closed the door. "He wasn't acting like this when we left. I swear. I think he's hamming it up for you." She patted Clay's head with a laugh. He accepted the pat with a defeated grunt, stopped hobbling, and started to walk with his usual gait. I heaved a relieved sigh. He looked up at me and winked. I quickly checked to see if Rachel had noticed, but she had already walked away from us and into the house. I shook my head at him before we followed Rachel in. "So ~ Melissa Haag

There's nothing wrong with making love with the light on. Just make sure the car door is closed. ~ George Burns

Money in hand, I glanced up to find Glenn eyeing a rack of stuffed rats. As the salesman rang up my purchase, Glenn leaned close and, still staring at the rats, whispered, "What are those used for?"
"I have no idea." I got my receipt and jammed everything in my bag…

Glenn surprised me by opening the car door for me, and as I settled in the seat, he leaned against the frame of the open window. "I'll be right back," he said, and strode inside. He was out in a moment with a small white bag. I watched him cross in front of the car - wondering. Timing himself between the traffic, he opened the door and slid in behind the wheel.

"Well?" I asked as he set the package between us. "What did you get?" Glenn started the car and pulled out into traffic. "A stuffed rat."

"Oh," I said, surprised. What the devil was he going to do with it? Even I didn't know what it was for. I was dying to ask all the way to the FIB building but managed to keep my mouth shut even as we slipped into the cold shade of their underground parking. ~ Kim Harrison

As Ian popped the lock and opened the car door, he turned to Phoebe. "Can you do me a favour?"
She immediately stepped toward him, fully embracing their new mature relationship. "Of course."
Ian looked pointedly over his own shoulder and said, "Tell me the truth. Does this car make my glowing ass look fat?"
She'd naturally followed the direction of his gaze, but now she looked up, hard, into his eyes. And she smiled back at him despite herself. She even laughed. "You're an idiot."
"When things get too serious, I get a rash."
She pointedly looked back down at his nether regions, despite the fact doing so made her blush. Still, she spoke coolly, dryly. "Not on your ass."
If Ian believed in love, that would've been it for him. Instantly. Enthrallingly. Eternally. Instead, he just laughed. "Thank God for that. See if there's anything remotely clothinglike in the backseat or the trunk. ~ Suzanne Brockmann

As time passed, I learned more and more about the culture that comes with beign an injured veteran. There are a lot of really wonderful people and organizations to help veterans returning from war. Right about the time I started to really move forward in my recovery, two women came by and introduced themselves. They explained that they raise money to help injured veterans with various needs. They asked if there was anything I or my family needed. I said, "No thank you, I'm all good." But my sisters piped up and said, "He needs clothes. He doesn't have anything." The women smiled and said they'd be back. They came back with some sweatpants and a shirt and then announced that they were taking us to the mall. This would be my first time leaving the campus of Walter Reed, my first real trip out of the hospital. We were all excited. Leaving the hospital was a big step for me but my poor sisters had been cooped up much of the time with me in there as well. I was a little nervous, but I owed it to them to push aside my anxiety.
We decided that the electric wheelchair would be too heavy and too much trouble to get in and out of the car, so Jennifer wheeled me down to the front door where the ladies were waiting in their car. With very little assistance, Jennifer was able to get me for that chair into the car and we were off to the mall. When we arrived, my sisters pulled the wheelchair out of the trunk and placed it next to the car door. They opened the door and Jennifer leaned ~ Noah Galloway

There's a man with her. He's blonde, balding, harassed-looking, and probably what they call time-poor. Older. He looks at me over the steering wheel and gives a helpless, frustrated gesture, as though I should be able to identify and sympathize with his plight. Then, as the woman starts to open the car door, he stops her with a swift movement. And suddenly they're struggling, locked into a graceless, desperate tussle. I picture the dull, bestial unhappiness of a couple shackled to each other by their mortgage and their children's shareed DNA. ~ Liz Jensen

Sometimes her cheeks hurt from laughing when he finally held her car door open for her in the evening. He was there every day and every night. For her. ~ Debra Anastasia

Richie told Ben how much he had admired the BBC communications center in London ... but there was a puzzled sort of light in his eyes, as if he could not quite reconcile that building with this man ... or with the fat earnest boy who had showed them how to flood out half the Barrens with scrounged boards and a rusty car door. ~ Stephen King

Stop saying hurt.' She turned on him; the wounded animal finally breaking free. 'You fall over on the pavement, that hurts; you stub your toe, that hurts; you trap your finger in a car door, shit, that hurts. You did not hurt me. James. It was like you took a razor and pressed down hard in the tenderest place. ~ Tan Redding

Anastasia," he whispers. "What are you doing to me?" "I could say the same to you," I whisper back. Taking a deep breath, he kisses my forehead and leaves. He strolls purposefully down the path toward his car as he runs his hand through his hair. Glancing up as he opens his car door, he smiles his breathtaking smile. My answering smile is weak, completely dazzled by him, and I'm reminded once more of Icarus soaring too close to the sun. I close the front door as he climbs into his sports car. I have an overwhelming urge to cry; a sad and lonely melancholy grips and tightens around my heart. Dashing back to my bedroom, I close the door and lean against it, trying to rationalize my feelings. I can't. Sliding to the floor, I put my head in my hands as my tears begin to flow. ~ E.L. James

You've passed like three stores that sell batteries," she says. "We need to get one now in case it's too late on our way back."

"You don't need a battery. Your battery is fine," I say.
I avoid looking over at her but I can see her watching me, waiting for more explanation.

I don't immediately respond. I flick the blinker on and turn onto my grandparent's street. When I pull into their driveway, I turn the car off and tell her the truth. What harm could it do at this point?

"I unhooked your battery cable before you tried to leave today." I don't wait for her reaction as I get out of the car and slam the door. I'm not sure why I slam the car door. I'm not mad at her, I'm just frustrated. Frustrated that she doubts me after all this time.

"You what!?" she yells. When she gets out of the car, she slams her door intentionally.

I keep walking, shielding the wind and snow with my jacket until I reach the front door. She rushes after me. I almost walk inside without knocking but remember how it feels, so I knock.

"I said I unhooked your battery cable. How else was I going to convince you to ride with me?"

"That's real mature, Will. ~ Colleen Hoover

When she opened her car door, she noticed the electronic memo on the driver's seat. Scooping it up, she got behind the wheel. As she headed toward the gate, she flicked on the memo. Roarke's voice drawled out.
"I don't like the idea of you shivering unless I cause it. Stay warm."
Frowning, she tucked the memo in her pocket before experimentally touching the temperature gauge. The blast of heat had her yelping in shock.
She grinned all the way to Cop Central. ~ J.D. Robb

But you must admit,it's taking up an inordinate amount of your time. Why it's taken us six months to have dinner together."
"Is that all?"
He misinterpreted the quiet response, and the gleam in her eyes.And leaned toward her.
She slapped a hand on his chest. "Don't even think about it.Let me tell you something,pal.I do more in one day with my school than you do in a week of pushing papers in that office your grandfather gave you between your manicures and amaretto lattes and soirees. Men like you hold no interest for me whatsoever,which is why it's taken six months for this tedious little date.And the next time I have dinner with you,we'll be slurping Popsicles in hell.So take your French tie and your Italian shoes and stuff them."
Utter shock had him speechless as she shoved open her door.As insult trickled in,his lips thinned. "Obviously spending so much time in the stables has eroded your manners, and your outlook."
"That's right, Chad." She leaned back in the door. "You're too good for me. I'm about to go up and weep into my pillow over it."
"Rumor is you're cold," he said in a quiet, stabbing voice. "But I had to find out for myself."
It stung,but she wasn't about to let it show. "Rumor is you're a moron. Now we've both confirmed the local gossip."
He gunned the engine once,and she would have sworn she saw him vibrate. "And it's a British tie."
She slammed the car door, then watched narrow-eyed as he drove away. "A British tie ~ Nora Roberts

The men re-tighten my bolts just for safe measure.
The men open my car door, Ladies first.
The men are always helping.

One man asks how I reach the pedals.
One man asks where my daddy is.
One man opens his trunk and says,
Bet you're small enough to fit. ~ Olivia Gatwood

Is this what you drive?" she asks, turning those wide eyes up to me.
"Yes," I say, but then I add with a smirk, "but you're not surprised, are you? Isn't this what bad-boys do? Ride motorcycles and break hearts?"
Her smile is weak. "I suppose so."
She turns away and moves around to unlock the car door and pop the hood.
I shouldn't have said that. ~ M. Leighton

Bright headlights and wailing sirens approached the dormitory parking lot. They were the village fire trucks, painted red and carrying tanks of water.
One of the four trucks came to a stop in front of the police cruiser. The two firefighters hanging from beside the driver's seat leapt onto the ground and approached the police car. They were shocked to find a man handcuffed and bound to the car door. They were floored when they realized that the man was a police officer.
The firefighters approached the police officer, who stood hanging his head. Next to his head - on the doorframe - was posted a note.
[I set fire to an empty room and decided to arrest myself. I'm sorry for all the trouble. I must have gone crazy for a moment. I'm very very very very very very sorry.]
The firefighters silently exchanged glances. ~ Keiichi Sigsawa

Rachel slid inside her silver Kia and slammed the car door, grateful that the museum's security guard was now watching from a distance. If he hadn't been, she might have acted on a homicidal impulse and run Chase over, the manipulative jerk. In fact, it made her feel better just to imagine it. ~ Kaylin McFarren

I told my wife she looks sexy with black fingernails. Now she thinks I slammed the car door on her hand on purpose. ~ Emo Philips

I'M BUYING YOU A COAT."
And I meant it. I opened the car door and slung my leather jacket around her shoulders.
"It's February. Why don't you ever have a damn jacket on?" Echo slid her arms through my coat, closing her eyes as she inhaled. When she finaly opened them, she fluttered her eyelashes, giving me a look of pure seduction. "Maybe I like wearing yours instead."
I swalowed. I had plans, and those plans did not involve kissing her against my car. Dammit, she was going to kill me.
"Congratulations, it's yours. ~ Katie McGarry

Small children can be startled by the most mundane of noises. A car door from a distance can sound like the sky falling down when heard for the very first time. ~ Ulysses Brave

Devon stares at him standing there, remembering the only other guy had ever opened a car door for her.
Last summer. The sky was bright blue mirroring the water, the sun warm. A perfect day. He had smiled down at her; he'd That Look in his eyes- warm and eager and a little bit vulnerable. When he'd look at her in that way, and smile that tilted smile, her body would tingle with an electric tension that robbed her breath away.
That was then. And now?
Now she is here. ~ Amy Efaw

North is a powerful man, and you're still connected to him." Flo frowned. "Probably sexual memory, those Capricorns are insatiable. Well, you know. Sea Goat. And of course, you're a Fish. You'll end up back in bed with him."
Andie slammed the car door. "You know what I'd like for Christmas, Flo? Boundaries. You can gift me early if you'd like. ~ Jennifer Crusie

Doorman - a genius who can open the door of your car with one hand, help you in with the other, and still have one left for the tip. ~ Dorothy Kilgallen

Then I saw the figure standing outside my car door: it was Marlboro Man, who'd come outside to greet me. His jeans were clean, his shirt tucked in and starched. I couldn't yet see his face, though, which was what I wanted most. Getting out of the car, I smiled and looked up, squinting. The western sunset was a backdrop behind his sculpted frame. It was such a beautiful sight, a stark contrast to all the ugliness that had surrounded me that day. He shut the car door behind me and moved in for a hug, which provided all the emotional fuel I needed to continue breathing. Finally, in that instant, I felt like things would be okay. ~ Ree Drummond

On a second note, though, I have something to say about pain. There are lots of kinds of pain. Pain of smashing your fingers in a car door, pains of loosing a baby, pain of failing a test. But in their own little ways, these pains are all agonizing. Which is sad, and yet, happy, if you really think about it. If we never lost our car keys, or stepped in gum, or had a bad hair day, what kind of people would we be? In a word? Boring. We wouldn't be passionate; we wouldn't know it was exciting to get pregnant, or score an A on a final. So that's why, today at least, I am grateful for pain. Because it's part of what makes me the whacky, goofy, jaded, person that I am. Peace. ~ Alysha Speer

The sloshing of their hooves in the paddy field that I heard thirty yards away, my car door open for the breeze, the haunting sound I was caught within as if creatures of magnificence were undressing and removing their wings ~ Michael Ondaatje

My advice? Just be yourself. I'm sure you'll be fine."
Megan managed to smile and Regina slammed the car door. Be myself. Yeah. Right. Because that's gotten me so far in the past. ~ Kate Brian

It closed with a muffled thump that whispered money into the silent interior. The sound of my car door closing was vaguely reminiscent of a nickel hitting the bottom of a tuna can - cheap and tinny. ~ M. Leighton

What are you doing here?" I ask, stepping out of the car.
"Waiting for you." He closes the car door behind me. "I called you earlier and your mom said you'd be home around nine. You're two minutes early."
"Should I go away and come back?"
"What do you think?" he asks, encircling my waist with his arms. ~ Laurie Faria Stolarz

Isaiah opens my car door and his warm silver eyes smile at me. "Hey."
I sweep my bangs from my eyes. "Hi."
He offers his hand and I accept. His fingers wrap around mine and heat surges up my arm, flushes my neck and settles into a blush on my face. He tugs gently and I slip out. I'm not sure if my body vibrates from the rumbling of the garage door closing or from the blood pounding in my veins.
Our fingers lace together, and his other hand smoothly cups my hip. I suck in a breath, surprised that someone touches me so easily and with such care.
"You look nice," he says.
"I'm in my school uniform." White button-down blouse, maroon-and-black plaid skirt, and a pair of white Keds. Nothing spectacular.
"I know." The seductive slide in his voice causes the back of my neck to tickle. ~ Katie McGarry

When a man opens a car door for his wife, it's either a new car or a new wife. ~ Prince Philip

I'm driving."

Roarke's hand paused as it reached for the car door, and his brow winged up. "It's my car."

"It's my deal."

They studied each other a minute, crowded together at the driver's side door. "Why are you driving?"

"Because." Vaguely embarrassed, she dug her hands in her pockets. "Don't smirk."

"I'll try to resist. Why?"

"Because," she said again, "I drive when I'm on a case, so if I drive, it'll feel like -- it'll feel official instead of criminal."

"I see. Well, that makes perfect sense. You drive."

She started to climb in while he circled around to the passenger side. "Are you smirking behind my back?"

"Yes, of course." He sat, stretched out his legs. "Now, to make it really official, I should have a uniform. I'll go that far, but I refuse to wear those amazingly ugly cop shoes."

"You're a real joker," she muttered and jerked the car into reverse, did a quick, squealing spin, and shot out of the garage.

"Too bad this vehicle doesn't have a siren. But we can pretend nothing works on it, so you'll feel official."

"Keep it up. Just keep it up."

"Maybe I'll call you sir. Could be sexy." He smiled blandly when she glared at him. "Okay, I'm done. How do you want to play this? ~ J.D. Robb

My whole life I've harbored a resentment toward those who could ride no-handed. To this day, I can't even sit on an exercise bike without clinging to the handlebars with a serious G.I.-Joe- kung-fu grip. Every time I see someone on the road, all smug and well-balanced, using their cell phone and gesturing while they talk and ride, I secretly want to bash them with my car door. It's ~ Jen Lancaster

Tall, narrow, and grand, the first house was a Victorian. Once loved by a family, it ended up a college rental. Dylan took it from rundown and abused to grand again.
"Could you see yourself living here?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
"No," I said softly.
"Good. Me either, but I'd have moved in tomorrow if you said yes."
Squirming around to face him, I sighed. "You're so whipped."
"I know, but only when it comes to you."
"It's only fair since you own my heart and could destroy me if you wanted."
"Could, but never will," he said, taking my hand. "Let's go look at the midcentury house."
"What if I don't like that one either?"
Dylan opened the car door and shrugged. "Plenty of houses in Ellsberg that need love. We'll find one and make it ours. ~ Bijou Hunter

What I wouldn't give to have known my father with my mother in love-together, you know, just the two of them, in the kitchen laughing, making a sandwich, or holding hands on the street, seeing my father open a car door for my other. The absence of those things are what makes you an orphan-it's the ordinary everyday expressions of love you miss. ~ Adriana Trigiani

Jeff-did you guys have a good day?
Jose-no
Jeff-why
Jose-he got my stick jammed in the car door
Jeff-what?did you say sorry
Jose- no
Jeff- why didn't you say sorry
Jose- cause he couldn't breath
Jeff-why couldn't he breath
Jose- cause he was laughing to hard ~ Jeff Dunham

You will need to stay calm as you witness the candy floss in your daughter's smile harden into brittle bitchiness. You will need to muster a new resolve as your son's fascination with Pokémon shifts to porn. You will have to recalibrate your mothering instinct to accommodate the notion that not only do your children poop and burp, they also masturbate, drink and smoke. As their bodies, brains and worlds rearrange themselves, you will need to do your own reshuffling. You will come to see that, though you gave them life, they're the ones who've got a life. They've got 1700 friends on Facebook. They've got YouTube accounts (with hundreds of sub- scribers), endless social arrangements, concerts, Valentine's Day dances and Halloween parties. What we have – if we're lucky – is a 'Thanks for the ride, Mum, don't call me, I'll call you,' as they slam the car door and indicate we can run along now. ~ Joanne Fedler

If you see a man opening a car door for a woman, it means one of two things: it's either a new woman or a new car! ~ Prince

Middle children weep longer than their brothers and sisters. Over her mother's shoulder, stilling her pains and her injured pride, Jackie Lacon watched the party leave. First, two men she had not seen before: one tall, one short and dark. They drove off in a small green van. No one waved to them, she noticed, or even said goodbye. Next, her father left in his own car; lastly a blond, good-looking man and a short fat one in an enormous overcoat like a pony blanket made their way to a sports car parked under the beech trees. For a moment she really thought there must be something wrong with the fat one, he followed so slowly and so painfully. Then, seeing the handsome man hold the car door for him, he seemed to wake, and hurried forward with a lumpy skip. Unaccountably, this gesture upset her afresh. A storm of sorrow seized her and her mother could not console her. ~ John Le Carre

The slam of a car door drew her attention to a new arrival. Maxville Deputy Sheriff Zach Manus emerged from his unmarked 2011 Camaro and stalked toward them. Deep sorrow and anger laced across his handsome features. His light-brown hair stood a little more on end than normal. He stopped in front of them, his frown deepening and his golden-brown eyes darkening. ~ Lia Davis

When I go to Indian reservations in the West, and especially to the Pine Ridge Reservation, I sometimes feel unsure where to put my foot when I open the car door. The very ground is different from where I usually stand. There are fewer curbs, fewer sidewalks, and almost no street signs, mailboxes, or leashed dogs. ~ Ian Frazier

I don't know what popping-and-locking is but I know to lock my car door whenever people are doing it. ~ Daniel Tosh

I might occasionally forget how to open a car door and have too many shower curtains, but I've got some standards. ~ MaryJanice Davidson

Just leave me alone, I want to be alone, she said when Jack tried to open the car door. She hit the lock, and wound the window up. Since the roof was down, it was a fairly pointless exercise. ~ Sarah Mayberry

I should just open the car door and throw her out of the moving vehicle for what she did to me tonight, but I didn't want to ruin someone else's car if they ran her over. ~ Tara Sivec

(1)BEING A POET
is like opening a car door
& exposing yourself.
(2)BEING A GOOD POET
is like opening the door
& exposing the passenger
as well. ~ Chocolate Waters

Cornelius opened the car door and cautiously peered out.
"Yes?" I asked.
"Checking to see if it's safe to come out."
Everyone was a comedian. I sighed and went into my office. ~ Ilona Andrews

Dervla shut her car door, plunging them into ~ Vicki Tyley

You can always tell a car door, no other door sounds quite like it.
("New York Blues") ~ Cornell Woolrich

Don't pretend you don't like it when I treat you as a lady."
"Maybe I don't."
Despite that, he still opened the car door for me, with his lips curving up into a careless grin. "Girls always do that," he said, " - pretend they think you're taking their independence from them if you open a door. But that's not the case."
"Well, what is the case?" I sat down on the front seat - leaving my feet on the driveway.
"Simply that we're demonstrating good-breeding; showing the girl we're worthy and capable of taking care of her - that we're polite, considerate and nurturing."
I folded my arms. "Women don't need nurturing - or to be taken care of. We can fend for ourselves. We're equal to men, you know. ~ A.M. Hudson

I practically sprinted to the parking lot to meet Camden. This time I made sure to stay far enough away from his car door that he couldn't lure me in and drive off someplace random; I was hovering about ten feet away from the Escalade's fender as he walked up.
"What are you doing," he asked, "standing far enough away so I can't lure you into the car and drive off someplace random?"
Observant bastard. ~ Cherry Cheva

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

I can imagine nothing more tiresome than always to speak of people as if they were listening at the door. ~ Ethel Smyth

Traffic counting was very boring and cold to sit out on the streets of New Haven in five pairs of pants - well, that's an exaggeration; it was three pairs of pants - in November for hours and hours clicking buttons counting which cars go left, right, and forward. ~ John Hodgman

At times the whole world seems to be in conspiracy to importune you with emphatic trifles. Friend, client, child, sickness, fear, want, charity, all knock at once at thy closet door and say, - 'Come out unto us.' But keep thy state; come not into their confusion. The power men possess to annoy me I give them by a weak curiosity. No man can come near me but through my act. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

There's an old saying about the truth setting you free. Don't buy it. Sometimes the truth slams the cell door shut and throws a thousand bolts. ~ Rick Yancey

... I have dreams of you too, Mariam jo. I miss you. I miss the sound of your voice, your laughter. I miss reading to you, and all those times we fished together. Do you remember all those times we fished together? You were a good daughter, Mariam jo, and I cannot ever think of you without feeling shame and regret. Regret… When it comes to you, Mariam jo, I have oceans of it. I regret that I did not see you the day you came to Herat. I regret that I did not open the door and take you in. I regret that I did not make you a daughter to me, that I let you live in that place for all those years. And for what? Fear of losing face? Of staining my so-called good name? How little those things matter to me now after all the loss, all the terrible things I have seen in this cursed war. But now, of course, it is too late. Perhaps that is just punishment for those who have been heartless, to understand only when nothing can be undone. Now all I can do is say that you were a good daughter, Mariam jo, and that I never deserved you. Now all I can do is ask for your forgiveness. So forgive me, Mariam jo. Forgive me, forgive me. Forgive me... ~ Khaled Hosseini

For a man who finds life tolerable only by staying on the surface of himself, it is natural to be satisfied with offering no more than his surface to others. There are few demands to be met, and no commitment is required. Marriage, on the other hand, closes the door. Your existence is confined to a narrow space in which you are constantly forced to reveal yourself – and therefore, constantly obliged to look into yourself, to examine your own depths. ~ Paul Auster

To retreat behind the notion that the audience simply wants to dump its troubles at the door and escape reality is a cowardly abandonment of the artist's responsibility. Story isn't a flight from reality but a vehicle that carries us on our search for reality, our best effort to make sense out of the anarchy of existence. ~ Robert McKee

Close a door, and you'd still feel a breeze through the window. ~ Jodi Picoult

He wants to feel good, he always used to feel good at every turning of the year, every vacation or end of vacation, every new sheet on the calendar: but his adult life has proved to have no seasons, only changes of weather, and the older he gets, the less weather interests him. The house next to his old house still has the FOR SALE sign up. He tries his front door ~ John Updike

I opened the door with a smile on my face that soon melted when I saw his messy appearance.
The doorframe held him up as he leaned all of his weight against it. Expressionless, bloodshot eyes stared back at me as he lifted his hand and ran it roughly down his unshaved face. His hair was disheveled and there was blood on the front of his shirt. Panic rose up as I took him in. I rushed to him and ran my fingers down his body, as I checked for injuries.

"You're bleeding! Oh my God, Devin! What happened? Are you OK?"

"It's not my blood," he slurred.

I took a better look at his gorgeous face. His unfocused eyes attempted to meet mine and it was then that the smell of liquor reached me.

"You're drunk?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely." He attempted to move toward me and almost fell over.

I wrapped my arms around him and helped him into my apartment. Once we made it to the couch I let him collapse onto the cushion before I went straight to work on his clothes. I removed his blood-stained shirt first and threw it to the side. Quickly checked him over again just to be sure that he wasn't injured somewhere. His skin felt cold and clammy against my fingertips.

His knuckles were busted open, so I went to the bathroom and got a wet towel and the first aid kit. I cleaned his fingers then wrapped them up.

I felt fingers in my hair and looked up to see a very drunk Devin staring back at me.
"You' ~ Tabatha Vargo

The young man named Peter took her hand and led her into the starship. The door closed behind them. A moment later, the starship disappeared. ~ Anonymous

Each night at bedtime, I'd close the bedroom door, climb into bed, and settle in under the covers. Within a minute, the door handle would turn and the door slowly open about a foot. Then a young boy's screams of "Daddy" would follow from the second bedroom - the little boy's room. ~ Paul Stefaniak

I suppose you want me to stand out here on the street and tell you all about me and Mom's conversation?"
"Psh, no," she said. "I listened at the door."
"That's my girl. ~ Lisa McBride

A planing stop can be as simple as a stick mortised into the benchtop. Here are some other ways to set up an adjustable planing stop on your bench: drive a couple screws into your benchtop, screw a deadbolt door lock to the end of the bench, clamp a piece of scrap to the benchtop. ~ Christopher Schwarz

I admit that I treed a rheumatic grandfather of mine in the winter of 1850. He was old and inexpert in climbing trees, but with the heartless brutality that is characteristic of me I ran him out of the front door in his night-shirt at the point of a shotgun, and caused him to bowl up a maple tree, where he remained all night, while I emptied shot into his legs. I did this because he snored. I will do it again if I ever have another grandfather. ~ Mark Twain

As I started to buy cars, I didn't know that I was building a collection. I just wanted the cars I was dreaming about. Once you drive a good one, it is like having a fever. ~ Ralph Lauren

So all I could do was just sit there and look at that old car and wonder how something that had been lost for so long could be found again. ~ Kami Garcia

How did you know?' she asked as he sat her on her feet inside the door.
'I didn't. This was just in case.' he lied, this man who'd had women pursuing him since his adolescence… ~ Susan Johnson

I think we'll be in pretty good shape. We've got the same car we ran in all the speedway races since 2001, and it's been a real good car for us. It's led every race we've been in. ~ Sterling Marlin

I tell people, and it's the truth, I could sit in my garage for a week and it won't make me a car. And you can sit in church till your bottom is flat and that won't make you a servant of Christ. ~ Joyce Meyer

In my poems I could not shut the door to the street. ~ Pablo Neruda

He headed for the door but stopped halfway. "I love you, Sophie. I love you with my soul."
Her bare arms held up the duvet. "Don't ruin this, Banallt, please."
"I'm not a villain from one of your novels, Sophie." She stared at him, wide-eyed. "Unlike them, I can change. I have changed."
Unfortunately, she didn't believe him. ~ Carolyn Jewel

I get labelled as just being about one thing, but there's lots of layers to what I do. It's just lazy journalism, but people start to accept it. If people spent an hour in my car driving around London and listening to the stuff I listen to, they'd hear some interesting stuff. ~ Paul Weller

Hey, guys, do you remember that time I was double-seat-belted in the wayback and the door flew open and the beer fell out but I survived completely uninjured? How is that even possible? ~ John Green

God is still in the business of coming down to earth: to this cubicle, this email, this room, this house, this job, this hospital room, this car, this bed, this vacation. Any place can become Bethel, the house of God. Cleveland, maybe. Or the chair you're sitting in as you read these words. ~ John Ortberg

Is there no peace for the naked?" Sister Mattie wore a bed cap of sensible white lace.
"I think you mean peace for the wicked," corrected Lady Linette ...
"Why would that apply?" asked Sister Mattie, before closing her door on both the problem and the noise. ~ Gail Carriger

I'm gonna give you some unsolicited advice, okay?" Dan peered at me, as though making sure I knew to take his words seriously. "But it's good advice, even though I'm tired as hell, so it might not make much sense."
"Sure. Go for it." Even in my muddled state, I couldn't help but smile at my friend.
"You like that guy, you tell him flat out. You just lay what you want and everything out there. Don't waste time not saying things that need to be said. He'll always be in your mind, wrecking the possibility of things with other people, because your heart can't move on until it knows for sure a door is closed."
I managed a reassuring smile. "Thanks for the ad - "
"But then, if the door opens, make sure it's the right door, not a different door. Because then you'll be in the room, but it's not the right room. And then you're stuck in the room, you've committed to the room, and you'd be an asshole for trying a new door in the same house when you're already in a room. And then your fucking heart won't stop looking for a window. ~ Penny Reid

Something was in her mouth. Sami's tongue slid along the edges of something plastic. Flat, low ridges, holes-an adjustable strap. A baseball cap?

Another taste. Hair spray. Gross.

Someone had stuffed her baseball cap in her mouth, and from the feel of it they had taped it in place. Her arms were tied behind her and she lay face down on the floor-of what? Her car. The carpeting scraped her cheek every time they hit a bump.

Panic flooded Sami's senses. She came instantly awake. Inhaling deeply through her nose, she willed herself to calm down. Her working motto flashed through her brain, panic never accomplished anything. Of course she had never been kidnapped and tied up before.

In the dim light of passing cars, she glimpsed things-paper gum wrappers, an old straw, one whopper wrapper, a CD cover.

That's where Sting went. Been looking for that for days. Man did she need to vacuum this car out.

A metallic scent hit her nose. She'd recognize that smell until the day she died. Blood. And by the odor, someone had lost a great deal of it. ~ Suzanne Ferrell

I am waiting on a trap door, but things might fall through for me. ~ Jarod Kintz

When an artist is asked to speak about form, you expect something different than when a critic talks about it. Because you think that somewhere between sentences and words, the secret will slip out. I am trying to give you that secret; it isn't a secret at all, but it is building solidly, not using secrets. I had been trying to extend into metaphysical extension; that film is changing, metamorphic; that is, infinite; the idea that the movement of life is totally important rather than a single life. My films were built on an incline, an increase in intensity. I hoped to make a form which was infinite, the changingness of things. I thought I would want to find a total form which conveyed that sense, particularly in reference to an Oriental subject. My impression was: one is walking down a corridor of a hotel. One hears a sound, opens a door and a man is playing; one listens for three minutes and closes the door. The music went on before you opened the door and it continues after you close the door. There was neither beginning nor end. Western music increases in intensity to a climax and then resolves itself. Oriental music is infinite; it goes on and on. The Chinese theater goes on for hours and hours with time for lunch moving scenery, etc. ~ Maya Deren

He arched a taunting brow. "Is that why you have yet to climb off me?" Desideria was horrified as she realized she hadn't moved. Every bit of her body was lying against his hard, muscled one. And honestly, it felt good. Real good. Her face heating, she practically jumped away. "Ah now that's just rude," he groused. "You know I did take a bath and everything. Several hours ago, but still." He flipped to his feet, then grimaced as if he'd struck his leg the wrong way before he limped over to secure the door. Even ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

I will say it again," said Dumbledore as the phoenix rose into the air and resettled itself upon the perch beside the door. "You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight. Harry. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it - and you have now given us all we have a right to expect. You will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace . . . Sirius, would you like to stay with him?"
Sirius nodded and stood up. He transformed back into the great black dog and
walked with Harry and Dumbledore out of the office, accompanying them down a
flight of stairs to the hospital wing.
When Dumbledore pushed open the door. Harry saw Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and
Hermione grouped around a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey. They appeared to
be demanding to know where Harry was and what had happened to him. All of
them whipped around as Harry, Dumbledore, and the black dog entered, and Mrs.
Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream.
"Harry! Oh Harry!"
She started to hurry toward him, but Dumbledore moved between them.
"Molly," he said, holding up a hand, "please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me.What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and ~ J.K. Rowling

Reading is not as insignificant as we claim. First we must steal the key to the library. Reading is a provocation, a rebellion: we open the book's door, pretending it is a simple paperback cover, and in broad daylight escape! We are no longer there: this is what real reading is. If we haven't left the room, if we haven't gone over the wall, we're not reading. ~ Helene Cixous

Jesus Christ opened heaven's door for us by His death on the cross. ~ Billy Graham

But there's never been anyone? Really?"

Sarah shrugs. "Penny and I were tutored at home when we were young . . . but in year ten, there was this one boy."

I rub my hands together. "Here we go - tell me everything. I want all the sick, lurid details. Was he a footballer? Big and strong, captain of the team, the most popular boy in school?"

I could see it. Sarah's delicate, long and lithe, but dainty, beautiful - any young man would've been desperate to have her on his arm. In his lap. In his bed, on the hood of his car, riding his face . . . all of the above.

"He was captain of the chess team."

I cover my eyes with my hand.

"His name was Davey. He wore these adorable tweed jackets and bow ties, he had blond hair, and was a bit pale because of the asthma. He had the same glasses as I and he had a different pair of argyle socks for every day of the year."

"You're messing with me, right?"

She shakes her head.

"Argyle socks, Sarah? I am so disappointed in you right now."

"He was nice," she chides. "You leave my Davey alone."

Then she laughs again - delighted and free. My cock reacts hard and fast, emphasis on hard. It's like sodding granite.

"So what happened to old Davey boy?"

"I was alone in the library one day and he came up and started to ask me to the spring social. And I was so excited and nervous I could barely breathe."

I ~ Emma Chase