Car On Fire Quotes

Lee, apparently protected by an invisible Badass Shield, was simply standing in the middle of the mayhem, staring at the burning remains of the car. Luke, much like Lee, was standing smack in the chaos, pieces of car on fire all around him, and his eyes were on me. ~ Kristen Ashley

If you throw one stone, it's a punishable offence. If 1,000 stones are thrown, it's political action. If you set a car on fire, it's a punishable offence. If hundreds of cars are set on fire, it's political action. Protest is when I say I don't agree with something. Resistance is when I ensure that things with which I disagree no longer take place. ~ Ulrike Meinhof

What do you buy a woman to get back on her good side when you've made her really, really angry? Cake? Fudge?"
The wrinkles on the old man's face scrunched together as he frowned.
"How angry did you make her boy?"
"She set my car on fire. ~ Alanea Alder

It seemed a vehicle was well and truly dead once the stereo had melted. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

The Democrats seem to be basically nicer people, but they have demonstrated time and again that they have the management skills of celery. They're the kind of people who'd stop to help you change a flat, but would somehow manage to set your car on fire. I would be reluctant to entrust them with a Cuisinart, let alone the economy. The Republicans, on the other hand, would know how to fix your tire, but they wouldn't bother to stop because they'd want to be on time for Ugly Pants Night at the country club ~ Dave Barry

To tell the truth, sir, I believe I had rather sit in the shelter for a while. The cabbage seems to have turned my inward parts to water.'
Nonsense,' said Stephen, 'it is the most wholesome cabbage I have ever come across in the whole of my career. I hope, Mr. Herapath, that you are not going to join in the silly weak womanish unphilosophical mewling and puling about the cabbage. So it is a little yellow in certain lights, so it is a little sharp, so it smells a little strange: so much the better, say I. At least that will stop the insensate Phaeacian hogs from abusing it, as they abuse the brute creation, stuffing themselves with flesh until what little brain they have is drowned in fat. A virtuous esculent! Even its boldest detractors, ready to make the most hellish declarations and to swear through a nine-inch plank that the cabbage makes them fart and rumble, cannot deny that it cured their purpurae. Let them rumble till the heavens shake and resound again; let them fart fire and brimstone, the Gomorrhans, I will not have a single case of scurvy on my hands, the sea-surgeon's shame, while there is a cabbage to be culled. ~ Patrick O'Brian

The position of sun and moon on the Feast of Beltane is one, with a list if two hundred paired figures laid out beneath. Similar tables existed for Hogmanay and Midsummer's Day, and Samhainn, the Feast of All Hallows. The ancient feasts of fire and sun, and Beltane's sun would rise tomorrow. ~ Diana Gabaldon

I shall be found with 'Indians' engraved on my brain when I am dead. A fire has been kindled within me, which will never go out. ~ Helen Hunt Jackson

Fire truck with back end on fire drives really fast in circles. ~ Demetri Martin

I went back in and grabbed my running clothes, then changed in the bathroom. I opened the door to the bathroom, stopping when I saw Kaidan's toiletry bag on the sink. I was overcome with curiosity about his cologne or aftershave, because I'd never smelled it on anyone else before. Feeling sneaky, I prodded one finger into the bag and peeked. No cologne bottle. Only a razor, shaving cream, toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant. I picked up the deodorant, pulled off the lid, and smelled it. Nope, that wasn't it.
The sound of Kaidan's deep chuckle close to the doorway made me scream and drop the deodorant into the sink with a clatter. I smacked one hand to my chest and grabbed the edge of the sink with the other. He laughed out loud now.
"Okay, that must have looked really bad." I spoke to his reflection in the mirror, then fumbled to pick up the deodorant. I put the lid on and dropped it in his bag. "But I was just trying to figure out what cologne you wear."
My face was on fire as Kaidan stepped into the small bathroom and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. I stepped away. He seemed entertained by my predicament.
"I haven't been wearing any cologne."
"Oh." I cleared my throat. "Well, I didn't see any, so I thought it might be your deodorant, but that's not it either. Maybe it's your laundry detergent or something. Let's just forget about it."
"What is it you smell, exactly?" His voice took on a husky quality, and it felt ~ Wendy Higgins

From the line, watching, three things are striking: (a) what on TV is a brisk crack is here a whooming roar that apparently is what a shotgun really sounds like; (b) trapshooting looks comparatively easy, because now the stocky older guy who's replaced the trim bearded guy at the rail is also blowing these little fluorescent plates away one after the other, so that a steady rain of lumpy orange crud is falling into the Nadir's wake; (c) a clay pigeon, when shot, undergoes a frighteningly familiar-looking midflight peripeteia -- erupting material, changing vector, and plummeting seaward in a corkscrewy way that all eerily recalls footage of the 1986 Challenger disaster.

All the shooters who precede me seem to fire with a kind of casual scorn, and all get eight out of ten or above. But it turns out that, of these six guys, three have military-combat backgrounds, another two are L. L. Bean-model-type brothers who spend weeks every year hunting various fast-flying species with their "Papa" in southern Canada, and the last has got not only his own earmuffs, plus his own shotgun in a special crushed-velvet-lined case, but also his own trapshooting range in his backyard (31) in North Carolina. When it's finally my turn, the earmuffs they give me have somebody else's ear-oil on them and don't fit my head very well. The gun itself is shockingly heavy and stinks of what I'm told is cordite, small pubic spirals of which are still exiting the barrel from the Korea-vet who prec ~ David Foster Wallace

To turn the page to the next chapter of a more satisfying life-as-adventure, these steps that have proved fruitful for me -- when I've actually followed them.
1. Find Your True North to Become More Joyful
First be clear about choosing a goal that rings true. Forget "should" or adopting someone else's goal for you.

2. Picture Being Your Hero
Afraid you will fail? Supplant your fear with a greater motivation. When you are tempted to fall back, picture how you'll feel when you succeed. ." Rather than talking about what you are giving up or how you might fail, reflect upon and discuss the benefits you clearly see.

3. Surround Yourself With Mutual Support Systems
To keep your resolve, surround yourself with those who want you to succeed - and who are also on a path of practice. Agree on shared and individual behaviors that reinforce your mutual support. The authors of Influencer found that is the only way to permanently change.

4. Involve Your Senses To Stay On Your Path
Tie your goal for your new chapter to your frequent experiences. Write it down. Say it out loud. Associate it with things you see, hear, smell, taste and touch every day. Plant sticky messages on your bathroom mirror, your car dashboard and smart device screen. Smell your shampoo and connect it with living that chapter. Brush your teeth and feel the motion towards it.

5. Notice Where You Get Detoured
Notice your pattern of avoidance. What ac ~ Kare Anderson

David: "How the hell did you get dressed so fast?"
Renee: "How do you know I didn't streak naked through the lobby and had clothes waiting for me in the car?"
David: "Heh. Good thing the archaeological paparazzi didn't have a team on duty."
Renee: "I'd have taken 'em out. My whole body is a weapon. ~ John C. Stipa

More and more money is being extracted from of the production and consumption economy to pay the FIRE sector. That's what causes debt deflation and shrinks markets. If you pay the banks, you have less to spend on goods and services. ~ Michael Hudson

I don't think I gave 'Wings' its due. I was young. I wanted to light the world on fire. ~ Tim Daly

I unbuckled my seat belt.
"Are you going to jump onto his car?" Julie asked. "I can get closer."
"What are you, out of your mind? No, I'm not jumping on his car. That only works in movies. ~ Ilona Andrews

Colin. Just the name made Alessandro's gut burn. He knew the man wanted his wife, even if Brianna was too blind to see it. The moron had been cuckolded by the paragon of supposed virtue, his wife Carrie and now he had finally opened his eyes and seen what Alessandro had known all along. Brianna put every other woman in New York to shame. No woman could come near her beauty, her passion, her fire. Colin had tossed her aside for the angelic Carrie and now he was changing his mind. Oh no you don't, you miserable fucker. "Her friend indeed," Bernardo drawled, his Italian accent thick with unmistakable implication. "Dat's da truth. He no make her cry all da time." That was directed at Alessandro, with small dark accusatory eyes. "He nice." Alessandro couldn't look at those eyes without feeling a sickening pang of guilt. She's mine! He wanted to scream. Mine! Mine! Mine! "Oh yes. Very nice. He was very nice when he held her at the cemetery and very nice when he was dancing with her at Adresca." That made Alessandro's head lift in surprise. "Oh yes, my boy. She's been there, cleaning up the rubble and word is that she's working on re-opening it. Her friend Colin has been quite helpful in that endeavour." "I don' like how you say dat," Will said scowling. "Really young William, I only speak the truth," Bernardo taunted. Alessandro's mind was racing. NO! Not Colin. He could not let that imbecile take Brianna away from him. He'd have to be eliminated somehow. Alessandro began to plot a ~ E. Jamie

It's not until we get into the car that I notice he has blood on his hand. "You've cut yourself," I say. He doesn't reply; his knuckles are white on the steering wheel. "Tom, I needed to talk to you," I say. I'm trying to be conciliatory, trying to be grown-up about this, but I suppose it's a little late for that. "I'm sorry about hassling you, but for God's sake! You just cut me off. You - " "It's OK," he says, his voice soft. "I'm not . . . I'm pissed off about something else. It's not you." He turns his head and tries to smile at me, but fails. "Problems with the ex," he says. "You know how it is." "What happened to your hand?" I ask him. "Problems with the ex," he says again, and there's a nasty edge to his voice. We drive the rest of the way to Corly Wood in silence. ~ Paula Hawkins

During a famine, the father and stepmother of Hansel and Gretel abandon them in a forest so that they will starve to death. The children stumble upon an edible house inhabited by a witch, who imprisons Hansel and fattens him up in preparation for eating him. Fortunately Gretel shoves the witch into a fiery oven, and "the godless witch burned to death in a horrible way." 41 • Cinderella's stepsisters, when trying to squeeze into her slippers, take their mother's advice and cut off a toe or heel to make them fit. Doves notice the blood, and after Cinderella marries the prince, they peck out the stepsisters' eyes, punishing them "for their wickedness and malice with blindness for the rest of their lives."

Snow White arouses the jealousy of her stepmother, the queen, so the queen orders a hunter to take her into the forest, kill her, and bring back her lungs and liver for the queen to eat. When the queen realizes that Snow White has escaped, she makes three more attempts on her life, two by poison, one by asphyxiation. After the prince has revived her, the queen crashes their wedding, but "iron slippers had already been heated up for her over a fire of coals.... She had to put on the red-hot iron shoes and dance in them until she dropped to the ground dead. ~ Steven Pinker

One loving heart sets another on fire. ~ Saint Augustine

One central characteristic of the Model T now generally forgotten is that it was the first car of consequence to put the driver's seat on the left-hand side. Previously, nearly all manufacturers placed the driver on the outer, curb-side of the car so that an alighting driver could step out onto a grassy verge or dry sidewalk rather than into the mud of an unpaved road. Ford reasoned that this convenience might be better appreciated by the lady of the house, and so arranged seating for her benefit. The arrangement also gave the driver a better view down the road, and made it easier for passing drivers to stop and have a conversation out facing windows. Ford was no great thinker, but he did understand human nature. Such, in any case, was the popularity of Ford's seating plan for the Model T that it soon became the standard adopted by all cars. ~ Bill Bryson

The rear door was black, the driver's side door was red, and the hood was sunshine-yellow. If Henry Ford and Picasso had gone out on a bender, that car was what the hangover would have looked like. ~ Kathleen O'Reilly

We begin to understand that to coparent is to one day look up and notice that you are on a roller coaster with another human being. You are in the same car, strapped down side by side and you can never, ever get off. There will never be another moment in your lives when your hearts don't rise and fall together, when your minds don't race and panic together, when your stomachs don't churn in tandem, when you stop seeing huge hills emerge in the distance and simultaneously grab the side of the car and hold on tight. No one except for the one strapped down beside you will ever understand the particular thrills and terrors of your ride. ~ Glennon Doyle Melton

I find myself thinking about this hue-mon all of the time. I wonder if it ever thought about us?
Was there room in here for thoughts about beetles?
Did it ever wonder how some glow?
Or spray liquid fire?
Or dance on water?
Or drink fog?
Maybe someday, if a hue-mon reads this journal, it will help them appreciate all of the amazing little aliens living underfoot. ~ Jay Hosler

There is a slow-growing beauty which only comes to perfection in old age ... I have seen sweeter smiles on a lip of seventy than I ever saw on a lip of seventeen. There is the beauty of youth, and there is also the beauty of holiness - a beauty much more seldom met; and more frequently found in the arm-chair by the fire, with grandchildren around its knee, than in the ball-room or the promenade. ~ Alexander Smith

I'm on fire when I'm singing, I'm completely in character, I use my sense memories, and every syllable of it is meant. It's a very special thing. ~ Sinead O'Connor

If I were to be made a knight," said the Wart, staring dreamily into the fire, "I should insist on doing my vigil by myself, as Hob does with his hawks, and I should pray to God to let me encounter all the evil in the world in my own person, so that if I conquered there would be none left, and, if I were defeated, I would be the one to suffer for it. ~ T.H. White

He reached the ground floor and flung the door open, fleeing into the street. He glanced back and saw that she wasn't following, so he slowed to a halt. His pulse raced. The entranceway was dark, the door swinging slowly closed. Movement to his left caught his attention: the camera on the corner of the building that covered the resident's parking. It swivelled to point directly at him, and he stared at it for a moment, suddenly doubtful it was a closed-circuit system after all.

He ran for his car, and the camera followed. ~ A. Ashley Straker

People generally complain that they're overburdened by responsibilities, forgetting that they chose to have those responsibilities. No one makes you work like a dog in order to live in a nice house, put your kids in nice schools, drive a smart car and go on exotic foreign holidays. It's up to you. ~ Mark Barrowcliffe

The Blade of Grass from Ponar

I kept a letter from my hometown in Lithuania, from one

who still holds a dominion somewhere with her youthful charm.

In it she placed her sorrow and her affection:

A blade of grass from Ponar.


This blade of grass with a flickering puff of dying cloud

ignited, letter by letter, the faces of the letters.

And over letter-faces in murmuring smolder:

The blade of grass from Ponar.


This blade of grass is now my world, my miniature home,

where children play the fiddle in a line on fire.

They play the fiddle and legendary is their conductor:

The blade of grass from Ponar.


I will not separate from my hometown's blade of grass.

My good, longed-for earth will make room for both.

And then I will bring a gift to the Lord:

The blade of grass from Ponar. ~ Abraham Sutzkever

Making a Fist
For the first time, on the road north of Tampico,
I felt the life sliding out of me,
a drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear.
I was seven, I lay in the car
watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern
past the glass.
My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin.
"How do you know if you are going to die?"
I begged my mother.
We had been traveling for days.
With strange confidence she answered,
"When you can no longer make a fist."
Years later I smile to think of that journey,
the borders we must cross separately,
stamped with our unanswerable woes.
I who did not die, who am still living,
still lying in the backseat behind all my questions,
clenching and opening one small hand. ~ Naomi Shihab Nye

And we did. A study of middle-class families in Los Angeles found that just one in four families could fit a car in its garage. (It also found that mothers' stress levels rose as they described their household mess.) Americans who struggled to afford health insurance and college could nevertheless buy lots of stuff, sometimes on credit. ~ Anonymous

The apocalypse doesn't have to be fire and brimstone. It could happen on a personal level. If you believe you're the center of your own universe and you want to see the universe destroyed, it only takes one bullet. ~ Marilyn Manson

As he prepared to ride on, he chuckled at the thought of the wolf entering the sheepfold. He would not ride with fire and destruction. The shepherd did not frighten his own pretty lambs. ~ Conn Iggulden

In her mind, her actions were treason to the false federation, but loyalty to the real United States of America, the one created by a document she had memorized. The real document was set on fire by what the news called "petty arsons" when the National Archives burned down. Bev knew better - she knew who was behind the destruction of the country's most important document. It was more than a document, it was a symbol - a symbol of freedom from tyranny, and one the Federal Government could no longer afford to abide by. ~ Jennifer Arnett

She stepped aside to let him pass. She followed him to the car and watched him get laboriously into the front seat. As she welcomed him silently to the human race, the stab of discovery made her tremble a little. Somebody walked over my grave, she thought, probably Jem on some idiotic errand. ~ Harper Lee

Do that thing you always wanted to do "someday" in the future: get on a plane in your Jackie O shift dress and shades, take a train across Europe wearing red lipstick, buy that sporty two-seater car, spend your money on perfume. Otherwise you might wake up one day with a husband and kids and wonder what you did with all that free time you once had. And if you're already experiencing the domestic bliss of family life, savour every moment. ~ Rosie Blythe

The snow is coming," she said. "Soon it will be snow time. Together then as in other snow times. Drinking busthead 'round the fire. Truth is a locked room that we knock the lock off from time to time, and then board up again. Tomorrow you will hurt me, and I will inform you that you have done so, and so on and so on. To hell with it. Come, viridian friend, come and sup with me. ~ Donald Barthelme

The Warrior knows that no man is an island.
He cannot fight alone; whatever his plan, he depends on other people. He needs to discuss his strategy, to ask for help, and, in moments of relaxation, to have someone with whom he can sit by the fire, someone he can regale with tales of battle. ~ Paulo Coelho

Childhood is bound like the Gordian knot with my memories of the Black Sea, and I still feel its waters welling up within me today. Sometimes these waters are leaden, as grey as the military ships that sail on their curved expanses, and sometimes they are blue as pigmented cobalt. Then would come dusk, when I would sit and watch the seabirds waver to shore, flitting from open waters to the quiet empty vastlands in darkening spaces behind me, the same birds Ovid once saw during his exile, perhaps; and the same waters the Argonauts crossed searching for the fleece of renewal.

And out in the distance, invisible, the towering heights of Caucasus, where once-bright memories of the fire-thief have transmuted into something weird and many-faceted, and beyond these, pitch-black Karabakh in dolorous Armenia. ~ Paul Christensen

Of four infernal rivers that disgorge/ Into the burning Lake their baleful streams;/Abhorred Styx the flood of deadly hate,/Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep;/Cocytus, nam'd of lamentation loud/ Heard on the rueful stream; fierce Phlegethon/ Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage./ Far off from these a slow and silent stream,/ Lethe the River of Oblivion rolls/ Her wat'ry Labyrinth whereof who drinks,/ Forthwith his former state and being forgets,/ Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain. ~ John Milton

When the house is on fire, don't tell me what your spiritual gift is. Just grab a hose and put out the fire. ~ Andy Stanley

If you happen to catch on fire during the show, do not panic or wave your arms around or scream or we wil give something to panic and wave you arms around and scream about. ~ Demetri Martin