Dickerhoff Garage Quotes

I was the worst hitter ever. I never even broke a bat until last year when I was backing out of the garage. ~ Lefty Gomez

To romp along the connected rooftops and fire escapes of Chicago's second city of garages was my young life's passion. ~ Lynn Margulis

I'd like to make the argument that The Cars were the first garage band. ~ Jarod Kintz

My desire to live a meaningful life was getting forestalled by the petty, day-to-day demands of all my stuff.
As I stood in my garage, I realized that it was not just that all the stuff created a mess, requiring valuable time to clean up. That was true, but that wasn't the worst of it. I realized it was not the clutter, the over accumulation of things, but rather the things themselves that were taking my attention away from what mattered in my life. Camping gear was getting my attention, not being outside. Tools were taking up my time, not using them to be creative. Toys were distracting me from the fun of playing. My things were not doing what they were meant to do: serve a greater purpose than possession alone. ~ Dave Bruno

Out there in some garage is an entrepreneur who's forging a bullet with your company's name on it. You've got one option now - to shoot first. You've got to out innovate the innovators. ~ Gary Hamel

I know, I know - you're a woman who's had a lot of tough breaks. Well, we can clean and tighten those brakes, but you'll have to stay in the garage all night. ~ Groucho Marx

If I seem to be over-interested in junk, it is because I am, and I have a lot of it, too - half a garage full of bits and broken pieces. I use these things for repairing other things. Recently I stopped my car in front of the display yard of a junk dealer near Sag Harbor. As I was looking courteously at the stock, it suddenly occurred to me that I had more than he had. But it can be seen that I do have a genuine and almost miserly interest in worthless objects. My excuse is that in this era of planned obsolescence, when a thing breaks down I can usually find something in my collection to repair it - a toilet, or a motor, or a lawn mower. But I guess the truth is that I simply like junk. ~ John Steinbeck

When you are in the final days of your life, what will you want?
Will you hug that college degree in the walnut frame? Will you ask to be carried to the garage so you can sit in your car? Will you find comfort in rereading your financial statement? Of course not. What will matter then will be people. If relationships will matter most then, shouldn't they matter most now? ~ Max Lucado

When i was a little boy i had a red bike, every night when I went to bed I begged God to give my bike wings so that in the morning, I could fly away. Every morning I'd crawl out of bed and run straight to the garage to see if he answered my prayers. I still have the bike. It's mire rusted than red now. But I still check. Everyday. ~ Tarryn Fisher

It was a fairly large house, larger than all our previous dwellings. There were two pinkwashed, picture- windowed, orange gable-roofed storeys, encompassing eight rooms, and an adjoining, presently shuttered garage. A friendly, unsymmetrical house, with pink bougainvillea hanging over the iron-lace decorated, semi-circular front porch and ivy climbing from the walls to the uneven gables. ~ Sonal Panse

When I received my glossy black invitation in the mail a few days later, I could feel my heart swell with excitement. "Hef's Midsummer Night's Dream Party," it read. On the front was a beautiful pinup illustration by famed artist Olivia De Berardinis and inside was a small piece of paper with directions. It was like Cinderella finally scoring an invitation to the ball - except instead of arriving by horse-drawn carriage, we would board a shuttle at a UCLA parking garage. ~ Holly Madison

She swore loudly and slammed the rig into reverse, steering it round the garage, ~ Jojo Moyes

Life was meant to be lived full measure, flat out, pedal to the metal. Don't live the rest of your life like a Porsche that never leaves the garage because somebody's afraid to scratch it. ~ J. Michael Straczynski

She asked him to meet her at Elegante. He agreed, but he felt somehow wronged. Exiting the garage, he realized what bothered him. For the first time, he felt going to Elegante was a consolation prize. Why hadn't Mrs. Cook invited him to her country club? ~ Marc Grossberg

I'm not in a position where I get to pick and choose roles. I usually go on auditions in long lines and embarrass myself in front of casting directors, and with a lump in my throat and my ears burning, I walk past reception and smirking actors as I go to the parking garage and go back on the highway. ~ Henry Rollins

I suffer depression only in the sense that I am a writer. We don't have proper jobs to go to. We are on our own all day. Show me a writer who doesn't get depressed: who has a completely stable mood. They'd be a garage mechanic or something. ~ Mark Haddon

In the poetry of arrival, the garage door is free verse; the front door can be anything from a rhyming couplet to a sonnet. ~ Akiko Busch

Being the only girl in the gig was tough, so I appreciated Jacob's compliments and companionship. It wasn't necessary though. I could handle Sawyer. I grew up with older brothers and a father who didn't want me working in the family garage. They were horrified when I told them I was going to police college> They didn't think that was right for a girl, let alone a Carleton. I had to wake them up to twenty-first century. Still, there were times when I wondered if my father hadn't died before I graduated high school, he might have been abe to change my mind. Sometimes I wondered if I wanted to be a cop to make a difference or to make a point. ~ Sara C. Walker

Someone stepped through the garage doorway. I squinted against the light. Mad Rogan.
He wore a dark suit. It fit him like a glove, from the broad shoulders and powerful chest to the flat stomach and long legs. Well. A visit from the dragon. Never good.
He started toward me. The track vehicle on his left slid out of his way, as if pushed aside by an invisible hand. The Humvee on his right slid across the floor. I raised my eyebrows.
He kept coming, his blue eyes clear and fixed on me. I stepped back on pure instinct. My back bumped into the wall.
The multiton hover tank hovered off to the wall. So that was the secret to making it work. You just needed Mad Rogan to move it around.
Rogan closed in and stopped barely two inches from me. Anticipation squirmed through me, turning into a giddy excitement spiced with alarm.
"Hi," I said. "Are you planning on putting all of this back together the way you found it?"
His eyes were so blue. I could look into them forever. He offered me his hand. "Time to go."
"To go where?"
"Wherever you want. Pick a spot on the planet."
Wow. "No."
He leaned forward slightly. We were almost touching. "I gave you a week with your family. Now it's time to go with me. Don't be stubborn, Nevada. That kiss told me everything I needed to know. You and I both understand how this ends."
I shook my head. "How did this encounter go in your head? Did you plan on walking in here, picking me up, and carryin ~ Ilona Andrews

Twist and wring out the budget, work extra hours, sell something, or have a garage sale, but quickly get your $1,000. Most of you should hit this step in less than a month. If it looks as though it is going to take longer, do something radical. Deliver pizzas, work part-time, or sell something else. Get crazy. You are way too close to the edge of falling over a major money cliff here. Remember, if the Joneses (all the broke people) think you are cool, you are heading the wrong way. If they think you are crazy, you are probably on track. ~ Dave Ramsey

When drum'n'bass happened, when the two-step/garage thing happened, there was a chart smash every week; it operated on the underground and the pinnacle of pop mainstream at the same time. ~ Kieran Hebden

When kids can't afford to see it anymore maybe we'll have a whole resurgence of garage bands all over America and this New Wave thing will start to mean something on a grass roots level. ~ Lester Bangs

Construed as turf, home just seems a provisional claim, a designation you make upon a place, not one it makes on you. A certain set of buildings, a glimpsed, smudged window-view across a schoolyard, a musty aroma sniffed behind a garage when you were a child, all of which come crowding in upon your latter-day senses
those are pungent things and vivid, even consoling. But to me they are also inert and nostalgic and unlikely to connect you to the real, to that essence art can sometimes achieve, which is permanence. ~ Richard Ford

This might be one of the few basements in Southern California, but it was clearly being used the way Juan's family used the garage. ~ Vernor Vinge

Find the Bad Guy means how, when you're arguing with your spouse, both people are trying to win the argument. Who didn't close the garage door? Who left the Bigfoot hair clump in the shower drain? What you have to realize, as a couple, is that there is no bad guy. You can't win an argument when you're married. Because if you win, your spouse loses, and resents losing, and then you lose, too, pretty much. ~ Jeffrey Eugenides

I was in my friends garage, and he had; a kite, a yo-yo, and a boomerang. I was like "Dude, you have abandonment issues" ~ Demetri Martin

A clean basement, garage and attic are signs of an empty life. ~ Doug Larson

Ian stared until she disappeared inside the elevator. Then he glanced back at me.
"Don't fret, poppet. I'll get her."
"We need to do this discreetly. If I wanted to make a colossal scene, I'd just drag her off kicking and screaming now," I said, not adding, "dumb ass" only because he was family.
"She'll come without a fuss," Ian said with confidence.
"You can't green-eye her in the elevator, it'll have video surveillance. So will the garage," I retorted.
"I don't need these," Ian said, flashing emerald in his turquoise gaze for a split second, "when I have this."
With a casual swipe of his hand, he ripped his shirt open, causing buttons to fly everywhere. Another swipe took his sleep mask all the way off. Finally, he finger-combed his shoulder-lenght hair and smiled at his reflection in the rearview mirror.
"I am after all, irresistible. ~ Jeaniene Frost

Around Christmas 2003, we visited Chris's parents in Texas. I found myself exceptionally hungry, though I couldn't figure out why. When we came back to California, I just felt something was off.
Could I be…pregnant?
Nah.
I bought a pregnancy test just in case. Chris and I had always planned to have children, but we weren't in a rush about it. In fact, we had only recently decided to be "a little less careful." It was a compromise between our spontaneous impulses and our careful planning instincts, which we both shared. We figured, if it happens somewhere in the next year…
I was upstairs in the house working when I decided to take a break and check things out.
Wow.
WOW!!!
Chris happened to be home fiddling with something in the garage. I ran downstairs, holding the stick in my hand. When I got there, I held it up, waving.
"Hey, babe," he said, looking at me as if I were waving a sword.
"Come here," I said. "I have to show you something."
He came over. I showed him the stick.
"Okay?"
"Look!"
"What is it?"
"Look at this!"
Obviously, he wasn't familiar with home pregnancy tests. Maybe that's a guy thing-given that the tests reveal either your worst nightmare or one of the most exciting events of your life. I'd wager every woman in America knows what they are and how they work.
Slowly it dawned on him.
"Oh my God," he said, stunned. "Are you…?"
"Yes!"
We confirmed it at the doctor's soo ~ Taya Kyle

But then one day, while lifting out an electric corn popper from under the sink, Arctor had hit his head on the corner of a kitchen cabinet directly above him. The pain, the cut in his scalp, so unexpected and undeserved, had for some reason cleared away the cobwebs. It flashed on him instantly that he didn't hate the kitchen cabinet: he hated his wife, his two daughters, his whole house, the back yard with its power mower, the garage, the radiant heating system, the front yard, the fence, the whole fucking place and everyone in it. He wanted a divorce; he wanted to split. And so he had, very soon. And entered, by degrees, a new and somber life lacking all of that.
Probably he should have regretted his decision. He had not. ~ Philip K. Dick

The sliding door opened, and then Michael was clomping across the porch. Gabriel didn't look at him, just kept his gaze on the tree line.
Michael dropped into the chair beside him. "Here."
Gabriel looked over. His brother was holding out a bottle of Corona.
Shock almost knocked him out of the chair. They never had alcohol of any kind in the house. When Michael had turned twenty-one, they'd all spent about thirty seconds entertaining thoughts of wild parties supplied by their older brother.
Then they'd remembered it was Michael, a guy who said if he ever caught them drinking, he'd call the cops himself. Really, he'd driven the point home so thoroughly that by the time he and Nick started going to parties, they rarely touched the stuff.
Gabriel took the bottle from his hand. "Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?"
Michael tilted the botle back and took a long draw. "I thought you could use one. I sure can."
Gabriel took a sip, but tentatively, like Michael was going to slap it out of his hand and say Just kidding. "Where did this even come from?"
"Liquor store."
Well, that was typical Michael. "No, jackass, I meant-"
"I know what you meant." Michael paused to take another drink. "There's a mini-fridge in the back corner of the garage, under the old tool bench. ~ Brigid Kemmerer

There are men who carefully manoeuvre a large limousine out of the garage at eight o'clock every morning. Others leave an hour earlier, traveling in a middle-class sedan. Still others leave when it is not yet light, wearing overalls and carrying lunch boxes, to catch buses, subways, or trains to factories or building sites. By a trick of fate, it is always the latter, the poorest, who are exploited by the least attractive women. For, unlike women (who have an eye for money), men notice only woman's external appearance. Therefore, the more desirable women in their own class are always being snatched away from under their noses by men who happen to earn more.

No matter what a particular man does or how he spends his day, he has one thing in common with all other men - he spends it in a degrading manner. And he himself does not gain by it. It is not his own livelihood that matters: he would have to struggle far less for that, since luxuries do not mean anything to him anyway it is the fact that he does it for others that makes him so tremendously proud. He will undoubtedly have a photograph of his wife and children on his desk, and will miss no opportunity to hand it around.

No matter what a man's job may be - bookkeeper, doctor, bus driver, or managing director - every moment of his life will be spent as a cog in a huge and pitiless system - a system designed to exploit him to the utmost, to his dying day. (...) We have long ceased to play the games of chi ~ Esther Vilar