Chevrolet Truck Quotes

The Bagshaw's blew up an armored truck one,' Gabrielle offered. ~ Ally Carter

Mek sat in the cab, doing some self-maintenance work. Instead of a verbal reply, I got a text message: SYLVATRONICS INDUSTRIAL UNIT A023 PROCESSING AN REINTEGRATION WILL BE COMPLETE IN 57 SECONDS. VERBAL COMMUNICATIONS WILL BE POSSIBLE IN ABOUT 65 SECONDS.

Oh well, I've caught rookie driving partners in the middle of all sorts of things. At least with robots you don't have to guess. ~ Paul Carlson

She makes my old pick-up truck feel like a limousine. ~ Rhett Akins

In 1969 my parents, my sister, my brother Jin-ming, and I were expelled from Chengdu one after another, and sent to distant parts of the Sichuan wilderness. We were among millions of urban dwellers to be exiled to the countryside.

In this way, young people would not be roaming the cities with nothing to do, creating trouble out of sheer boredom, and adults like my parents would have a 'future." They were part of the old administration which had been replaced by Mao's Revolutionary Committees, and packing them off to the sticks to do hard labor was a convenient solution.

According to Mao's rhetoric, we were sent to the countryside 'to be reformed." Mao advocated 'thought reform through labor' for everyone, but never explained the relationship between the two. Of course, no one asked for clarification. Merely to contemplate such a question was tantamount to treason. In reality, everyone in China knew that hard labor, particularly in the countryside, was always punishment. It was noticeable that none of Mao's henchmen, the members of the newly established Revolutionary Committees, army officers and very few of their children had to do it.

The first of us to be expelled was my father. Just after New Year 1969 he was sent to Miyi County in the region of Xichang, on the eastern edge of the Himalayas, an area so remote that it is China's satellite launch base today. It lies about 300 miles from Chengdu, four days' journey by truck, as there was no ~ Jung Chang

If you can call a Chevrolet a Chev, why can't you call a Japanese a Jap? ~ Harold Ballard

Oh, everything is fun when I'm around." Hercules's knees knocked into the back of my seat as he leaned back. "This one time, when I was ordered by the gods to . . ."

I could only think of three words.

Fuck. My. Life.

"You should drive, because I'm going to end it all. Once we're on the freeway, I'm going to jump out of this vehicle and throw myself in front of a Mack truck."

Josie's laugh cut off her yawn. "That's a little excessive."

Adjusting the sunglasses I'd stolen from Aiden yesterday morning, I smirked. "I do not think anything is excessive when it comes to him."

"But that won't even kill you."

I sighed. "Yeah, but I'm pretty sure it'll knock me unconscious for the time being. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

One year, on vacation in Hawaii, I was relaxing at a beach, watching whales in the distance, when a fisherman, obviously a local, drove up in his pick-up truck. He got out with a dozen fishing rods. Not one. A dozen. He baited each hook, cast all the lines into the ocean, and set the rods in the sand. Intrigued, I wandered over and asked him for an explanation. "It's simple," he said. "I love fish but I hate fishin'. I like eatin', not catchn'. So I cast out 12 lines. By sunset, some of them will have caught a fish. Never all of 'em. So if I only cast one or two I might go hungry. But 12 is enough so some always catch. Usually there's enough for me and extras to sell to local restaurants. This way, I live the life I want." The simple fellow had unwittingly put his finger on a powerful secret. The flaw in most businesses, that keeps them always in desperate need - which suppresses prices - is: too few lines cast in the ocean. ~ Dan S. Kennedy

She ran after the garbage truck, yelling, "Am I too late for the garbage?" "No, jump in!" ~ Henny Youngman

It wasn't Glen's jealousy that surprised him. "You owe Roy money?"
"Yep. Borrowed it to get my truck painted."
"Roy's a loan shark, too?"
"You ever see JAWS?" Snakebite asked.
Glen said he had.
"How 'bout THE GODFATHER?"
"Yeah."
"Well, if Michael Corleone waded out in the ocean and fucked that shark, then you'd have old Roy."
from the Tom Franklin short story "Grit" (page 31) from POACHERS:STORIES ~ Tom Franklin

Yes, I call my scooter Jessie, and I don't think that's weird in the slightest."
(...) "Doesn't your truck have a name ?" she asked Blake with mock surprise.
"Sure. Toyota... ~ M.J. Hearle

If someone from Germany or somewhere, who had no idea what baseball was, saw Kruk play, he'd wonder what the beer truck driver was doing playing first base. ~ Andy Van Slyke

America does to me what I knew it would do: it just bumps me. The people charge at you like trucks coming down on you
no awareness. But one tries to dodge aside in time. Bump! bump! go the trucks. And that is human contact. ~ D.H. Lawrence

I try to tell the teacher, you know. I don't give a fuck about geometry or English. Like I'm probably going to drive a truck or something when I get out of school. Join the army or something simple. I'm sure in the army they're all going to be wondering what an acute angle is. I'm sure I'll make lots of friends driving my truck because I can diagram some lousy goddamn sentence. And then after school I'm free, right? What's that mean? I go down to the bowling alley or the shopping mall with my friends. We scope the grils, smoke a little doobidge, maybe a tab of acid every now and then. But that's not really living, is it? I mean, if that's living, then excuse me right now. I'll go out and put a bullet in the old brainpan. But if that's not all there is, right, well, maybe there's something I could do a little less radical, like, you know. I don't mind life or anything--I'm perfectly willing to give it a try. So what the hell, I figured. I'm sick of school, drugs, this goddamn oppressive house of Ethel's and all. Maybe it's time I experimented a little more with my life, took a few more chances. So that's when I decided to become a warlock. To master the satanic arts of black magic. Devil worshiping, for you laymen. I want to master what they call the black arts. ~ Scott Bradfield

Courage, traveler. Weird. It's coming from inside her. Hold your little map and shout to the darkness, it says. Shout this: You are nothing, darkness, against something as old as love. Shout: I will walk right through you, darkness, because I am, and I will be. This boldness-she's felt it before. In the truck, when she first saw Billy. No, before that, when she was brave, so brave, and brought Anna to the shore. This is how you save yourself? This small voice inside? This microscopic cell of belief, allowed to divide? Yep. Uh-huh. The voice is your own personal sword and shield-remember that. Remember that every hard day. ~ Deb Caletti

We piled into the back of his big red Sun-Times truck: Robertson, McHugh, a bagpipe player, assorted other regulars, and Good Sydney Harris. Good Sydney Harris was a Spanish Civil War veteran, not to be confused with the Bad Sydney Harris, the Daily News columnist. Good Sydney had fallen into conversation with a dominatrix named Jake, who joined us. ~ Roger Ebert

The minute Molly and Priss disappeared inside, Trace cursed. He actually wanted to hit something, but a tree would break his knuckles, he didn't want to put another dent in the truck, and Dare would hit back.
Chris Chapey, Dare's longtime best friend and personal assistant, approached with the enormous cat draped over one shoulder so that he could keep an eye on the trailing dogs. The bottom half of Liger filled his arms, and the long tail hung down to the hem of Chris's shorts.
Without even thinking about it, Trace started petting the cat. After a few hours in the truck together, he and Liger had an understanding of sorts.
Dare watched him, but said only, "That cat is a beast."
"He's an armful, that's for sure." Chris hefted him a little higher, and got a sweet meow in return.
Both dogs barked in excitement, but quited when Liger gave them a level stare.
Chris laughed at that. "You want me to head in to keep an eye on things"
"That's why I pay you the big bucks, right?" Dare stared toward the house. "You can tell Trace's lady - "
"She's not mine."
Both Chris and Dare gave him a certain male-inspired look, a look that said they understood his bullshit and would let it slide - for now. ~ Lori Foster

For five years the refugees of Eastern Europe had been pouring into Austria through every fast-closing gap in the barbed wire: crashing frontiers in stolen cars and lorries, across minefields, clinging to the underneath of trains, to be corralled and questioned and decided over in their thousands, while they played chess on wooden packing cases and showed each other photographs of people they would never see again. They came from Hungary and Romania and Poland and Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia and sometimes Russia, and they hoped they were on their way to Canada and Australia and Palestine. They had travelled by devious routes and often for devious reasons. They were doctors and scientists and bricklayers. They were truck drivers, thieves, acrobats, publishers, rapists and architects. ~ Adam Sisman

Tell you what," A.J. offered. "I've got some errands to run today. We'll hijack the truck and pick up a new one together."
"You askin' me on a date?" Chester asked wolfishly.
"I suppose I am."
"You buyin' or am I?"
"If you're talking about the wheelbarrow, I am," Devlin interjected.
"But what about food? If it's a date, ya need food."
"Probably not a lot of that at the local hardware store," A.J. said with a grin. "Considering your days of eating nails are over with."
"Well, I'll pay for lunch if we go to the Pick a' the Chicken."
"Okay, but you should know, I don't kiss on the first date."
"Neither do I. ~ J.R. Ward

Writing is not something you can do or you can't. It's not even something that 'other people do' or 'for smart people only' or even 'for people who finished school and went to University'. Nonsense. Anyone can do it. But no-one can do it straight off the bat. Like plastering, brain surgery or assembling truck engines, you have to do a bit of training - get your hands dirty - and make some mistakes. ~ Jasper Fforde

My hosts have spread the spectrum: students, farm and construction workers, salesmen and truck drivers, teaches and writers... I've stayed in homes with backyard swimming pools and homes with backyard toilets, ridden with people who needed gas money and others who bought me meals, some who would put the fear of God into me, who whose country-twand talk almost called for an interpreter... but one thing had they in common: the willingness to help a stranger on the road or a weary friend at their door ~ Irv Thomas

A man in a green truck lays on his horn to my left, as if noise will magically part the congested freeway. I hold back the urge to roll down my window and remind him that he's not Moses and magic does not exist. ~ Krista Ritchie

two - queerness and toxicity - have an affinity. They truck with negativity, marginality, and subject-object confusions; they have, arguably, an affective intensity; they challenge heteronormative understandings of intimacy. Both ~ Mel Y. Chen

People say hello to me. I mean, sometimes the sanitation truck goes by and says, hey Patti ... ~ Patti Smith

I figure heaven will be a scratch-and-sniff sort of place, and one of my first requests will be the Driftwood in its prime, while it was filled with our life. And later I will ask for the smell of my dad's truck, which was a combination of basic truck (nearly universal), plus his cologne (Old Spice), unfiltered Lucky Strikes, and when I was very lucky, leaded gasoline. If I could have gotten my nose close enough I would have inhaled leaded gasoline until I was retarded. The tendency seemed to run in my family; as a boy my uncle Crandall had an ongoing relationship with a gas can he kept in the barn. Later he married and divorced the same woman four times, sometimes marrying other women in between, including one whose name was, honestly, Squirrelly. ~ Haven Kimmel

I don't need any explanation about what you do with your life. You and I ... we grew up together,and that's it. Yeah, we shared a lot of stuff back then, and we were there for each other when it mattered.
But neither one of us can fit into the clothes we used to wear , and this relationship between us is just the same.
It doesn't fit in our lives any longer.
We don't ... fit anymore. And listen., I didn't mean to get pissy in the truck, but I think you need to be clear on this.
You and I? We have a past. That's it.
That's ... all we'll ever have (Blay to Qhuinn) ... ~ J.R. Ward

Hel-lo, gorgeous."
Phoebe looked around as she stepped out of Zane's truck. Standing next to the passenger door was a tall teenager with bright, inquisitive eyes and a welcoming smile. He looked enough like Adam Levine to make it easy for her to guess his identity.
"You must be Chase," she said.
"In the flesh. And you're Phoebe." He looked her over from head to toe, then sighed. "Maya said a lot of great things about you, but she never mentioned you were a goddess."
The outrageous compliment made Phoebe laugh. "Hardly," she protested, knowing that with her brown hair, brown eyes and unspectacular features she was little more than average.
"My heart is pounding a mile a minute," Chase said, moving closer. "Want to feel?"
The driver's side door slammed shut. "Don't you have chores?" Zane growled.
Chase took a step back, and his smile cranked down about 50 percent.
"All done. Even the extra ones you gave me. I got started early so I could be finished to welcome Phoebe. ~ Susan Mallery

Sometimes I think some of my fellow novelists who have not worked in television and film are very naive about this process. They get an offer and there's the dump truck full of money and they sign it, they cash the check and then they're not involved in the series. They may get invited to the premiere and they come out of the premiere looking like all of their children had just been gassed, with a stunned look on their face because everything has been changed. ~ George R R Martin

I never wanted anything so much, I've got to have one. I want a girl in a pickup truck. ~ Rick Trevino

Work"


I laid telephone line, then cable when it came along. I pulled T-shirts off a silk-screen press. I cleaned offices in buildings thirty-five floors high. I filed the metal edges of grease fryers hot off a welding line. I humped sod in townhouse complexes, and when it became grass I cut it. I sorted mail. I washed police cars, and then I changed their oil. I installed remotes on gas meters so a truck could simply drive down the street and get the readings. I set posts and put up fences, wood and chain link. Five a.m. at the racetrack, I walked hot horses after their exercise. I bathed them. I mopped and swept aisles in a grocery store. Eventually, I stocked shelves. I corrected errors on mortgage papers for a bank. I racked tables in a pool hall. There's more I'm not telling you.

All of this befell me as an adult. As a kid, I cut neighbors' lawns and delivered newspapers, and I watched after little kids while their parents worked. I painted houses. I collected frogs from ponds and sold them to pet stores. And so on.

At fifteen, I went for a busboy position at an all-night diner, but they told me to come back when I turned sixteen. I did.

Sometimes, on top of one, I took a second job. It gave me just enough time to sleep between the two. And eat.

My father worked, harder than I did, and then he died. Then I worked harder. My mother said, "You're the man of the house now." I was seventeen. She kept an eye on me, t ~ Michael Stigman

America is like one of those old-fashioned six-cylinder truck engines that can be missing two sparkplugs and have a broken flywheel and have a crankshaft that's 5000 millimeters off fitting properly, and two bad ball-bearings, and still runs. We're in that kind of situation. We can have substantial parts of the population committing suicide, and still run and look fairly good. ~ Thomas McGuane

Oh look," she pointed to them, a fine example of two people in love. Ruin paused and looked from them to her several times before whispering, "You want to? Now?' "Oh my God," she muttered, shaking her head. "Those two are in love, I was trying to show you but of course you'd only think of sex." Ruin followed her to the truck, still watching the couple while he climbed into the driver seat. "Are you sure we're not in love? Pretty sure we look just like that, minus all the laughing. ~ Lucian Bane

Action and personal happiness have no truck with each other; they are eternally at war. ~ Antoine De Saint Exupery

Her father dropped her off in front of the place where she was to live and left the engine running. Lila Mae removed the two suitcases from the back of the pickup truck. The suitcases were new, with a formidable casing of green plastic. Scratchproof, supposedly. Her father had only been able to afford them because they were, manufacturer's oats aside, scratched - gouged actually, as if an animal had taken them in its fangs to teach them about hubris. ~ Colson Whitehead

Outside the basement door was a covered pen that housed a rooster and a seagull. The rooster had been on his way to Colonel Sanders' when he fell off a truck and broke a drumstick. Someone called Carol, as people often do, and she took the rooster into her care. He was hard of moving, but she had hopes for him. He was so new there he did not even have a name. The seagull, on the other hand, had been with her for years. He had one wing. She had picked him up on a beach three hundred miles away. His name was Garbage Belly. --John McPhee, Travels in Georgia (1973) ~ David Remnick

Come up here if you have a vision or if you are in trouble." Pokey grabbed a bag from the floor of the truck and handed it to Samson through the window. "There's a blanket in there and some mint ~ Christopher Moore

He drove into the spewing smoke of acres of burning truck tires and the planes descended and the transit cranes stood in rows at the marine terminal and he saw billboards for Hertz and Avis and Chevy Blazer, for Marlboro, Continental and Goodyear, and he realized that all the things around him, the planes taking off and landing, the streaking cars, the tires on the cars, the cigarettes that the drivers of the cars were dousing in their ashtrays
all these were on the billboards around him, systematically linked in some self-referring relationship that had a kind of neurotic tightness, an inescapability, as if the billboards were generating reality ... ~ Don DeLillo

Ain't nothing going to eat you while Bubba's around." Caleb laughed. "They might toy with him for a bit but he won't let any past." Caleb to Nick.
"Is something wrong?" Nick to Bubba
"Nah ... I just ... " Bubba nervous.
"Please, God, Bubba, tell me you're not about to ask me out, are you?" Nick to Bubba.
Bubba made a rude sound at him. "Hell, nah. I'd date Mark first, provided he took a bath so I wouldn't have to fumigate my truck or store."
"But," Bubba continued, "now that you mention it ... that is what I wanted to ask you about."
"Dating Mark? Really?" Nick to Bubba.
'Cause the kid with a brand-new license was such an expert on going out with others. ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Well," said Mma Ramotswe, "I have felt that anger. I felt it when I saw that the van had gone. I felt it a bit in the truck on the way back. But what is the point of anger now, Mma? I don't think that anger will help us." Mma Makutsi sighed. "You are right about anger," she said. "There is no point in it. ~ Alexander McCall Smith

A human on a bicycle is more efficient (in calories expended per pound and per mile) than a train, truck, airplane, boat, automobile, motorcycle, skateboard, canoe, or jet pack. Not only that, bicycling is more efficient than walking, which takes three times as many calories per mile. In fact, pound for pound, a person on a bike can go farther on a calorie of food than a gazelle can running, a salmon swimming, or an eagle flying. ~ Sightline Institute

A 1.5 litres/100km (3 mpg) increase in the auto and light truck fleet is worth 158,968.35 cubic metres (41,994,994.53 US gallons) of oil a day. ~ Ernest Moniz

A lesson will keep repeating itself until it is learned. Life first will send the lesson to you in the size of a pebble; if you ignore the pebble, then life will send you a brick; if you ignore the brick, life will send you a brick wall; if you ignore the brick wall, life will send you a demolition truck. ~ Oprah Winfrey

Is it ... can we ... is it safe?"
Tub checked the lot but he seemed unconcerned.
"Coach Lawrence nabbed him for practice. We live to fight another day, soldier."
"No ... I mean, the thing ... is it ... ?"
Tub frowned.
"The thing. Hmmm. Can you be more specific?
I clutched at the bumper and raised myself to unsteady feet. I patted the truck bed, taking solace in the cake of dust. It was real; I was not caught in a nightmare. I smeared the dust with my fingers and smelled it.
"If you lick that, we're no longer friends," Tub said. ~ Guillermo Del Toro