Drip Trays Quotes

Vents were added to the rear bonnet in 1972 and resulted in wet engines and starting problems, and then extra drip-trays to compensate. From 1968 the Beetle got the right side fuel flap that dodgy people used to break open to steal your gas – or your fuel cap – another hard to find item if lost! ~ Christina Engela

For some parents, having children meant full absolution from any future mistakes. My father wouldn't permit himself to be wrong. He shifted the blame of misplaced scissors, rising interest rates, and iceless ice cube trays all unto Riegel and me. ~ Amber Dermont

We find nothing easier than being wise, patient, superior. We drip with the oil of forbearance and sympathy, we are absurdly just, we forgive everything. For that very reason we ought to discipline ourselves a little; for that very reason we ought to cultivate a little emotion, a little emotional vice, from time to time. It may be hard for us; and among ourselves we may perhaps laugh at the appearance we thus present. But what of that! We no longer have any other mode of self-overcoming available to us: this is our asceticism, our penance. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

I haven't even seen him and I want to spread my legs and beg for that tongue to drip nasty words all over my core. ~ Crystal Spears

She was spared the slow, steady droplets of blood that began to spatter the beds, drip, drip, drip, painting the white sheets in shocked flowers of red ~ Chris Wooding

They were suddenly both naked. He got on top of her and kissed her passionately, withdrew his lips slightly from hers, and allowed a few drops of saliva to drip into her mouth. ~ Trish Silver

The smells arose from everything, everywhere, flowing together and remaining as a sickening, tantalizing discomfort. They flowed from the delicatessen shop with its uncovered trays of pickled herrings, and the small open casks of pickled gherkins and onions, dried fish and salted meat, and sweaty damp walls and floor; from the fish shop which casually defied every law of health; from the kosher butcher, and the poulterer next door, where a fine confetti of new-plucked feathers hung nearly motionless in the fetid air; and from sidewalk gutters where multitudes of flies buzzed and feasted on the heaped-up residue of fruit and vegetable barrows. ~ E.R. Braithwaite

He wanted to roar like a lion on a cement floor. And bellow like a polar bear with yellow fur worn down to pink skin against the tiles of an enclosure in a zoo. The disgust must come. Let it drip down the walls. Scorch the ceiling black with hatred. Liberate rage. ~ Adam Nevill

The policemen had clearly been there all morning: four big white tea mugs from the canteen were drained and drip-stained, red-and-gold wrappers from caramel log biscuits were folded into interesting shapes on one side of the table, rolled up into tight little balls on the other. ~ Denise Mina

No one should ever despair because the entrance to his or her chosen career path is clogged. There is an ancient saying: The persistent drip wears through stone. ~ Kentetsu Takamori

16 marketing vehicles are: 1. Social media marketing 2. Blog marketing 3. Article marketing 4. Lecture marketing 5. Webinar marketing 6. Video marketing 7. Presentation marketing 8. Podcast marketing 9. Workshop marketing 10. Book marketing 11. Drip marketing 12. Referral marketing ~ Jay Niblick

Eat your cadence
Drip my head down your chin
It's so much more comfortable
To watch the sun fall into the ocean
Orange County license plates
Say things that make no sense
You are beautiful projected against purple
You are everything wrapped in orange
Yeah when you talk you lick my heart
I taste you when I breathe
The moon is a fingernail on the floor
Your shadow goes to sleep with mine
I love you forever and ever and
Ever ~ Joshua Espinoza

That's what I am; I'm a drip. You still get hydrated, you still get your nutrients, just a little at a damn time. ~ J. B. Smoove

The conversation did not go very well and I began telling him about the people with their trays in the great cafeteria and suggesting that it would have done us more good to go there to be put in mind of our own mortality. ~ Barbara Pym

Sound.
Noise
the air employs.
Melodies sweet.
Tweet, tweet, tweet.
Soft. Loud.
A roaring crowd.
Cluck. Caw. Crow.
Tet, tet. Tis, tis.
Guttural growl.
Harrowing howl.
Drip, drip, drip.
Tap, tap, tap.
Moan and groan.
Endless drone.
Ding, dang, dong.
A church bell song.
Vibrations in my ear
to hear.
Sound. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

We'll bring out the Elvis TV trays. ~ Tracy Byrd

Verse is not written, it is bled; Out of the poet's abstract head. Words drip the poem on the page; Out of his grief, delight and rage. ~ Paul Engle

Given the final futility of our struggle, is the fleeting jolt of meaning that art gives us valuable? Or is the only value in passing the time as comfortable as possible? What should a story seek to emulate, Augustus? A ringing alarm? A call to arms? A morphine drip? Of course, like all interrogation of the universe, this line of inquiry inevitably reduces us to asking what it means to be human and whether - to borrow a phrase from the angst-encumbered sixteeen-year-olds you no doubt revile - there is a point to it all. ~ John Green

Sometimes there's nothing but Sundays for weeks on end. Why can't they move Sunday to the middle of the week so you could put it in the OUT tray on your desk? ~ Russell Hoban

When I do entertain, in the summer, which is rare, I receive my guests on the front porch, set up wicker trays found at Pottery Barn, and serve iced beverages. Anytime I do welcome friends, it's always a tray of canapes or Planters peanuts, jellied candy from Paris, and a good bottle of Sancerre. ~ Andre Leon Talley

I wanted to kick Bruce in the taint. No one is just one thing. Many things contribute to the whole of a person, and just because vodka accounts for 50 percent of my body weight, that doesn't mean I walk around with a vodka drip, forcing every plant, person, or animal to imbibe. I've always had a disliking for animal trainers, and this guy cemented my theory that people who chaperone animals for a living have never had a girl sit on their face. ~ Chelsea Handler

That's the real distinction between people: not between those who have secrets and those who don't, but between those who want to know everything and those who don't. This search is a sign of love, I maintain.
It's similar with books. Not quite the same, of course (it never is); but similar. If you quite enjoy a writer's work, if you turn the page approvingly yet
don't mind being interrupted, then you tend to like that author unthinkingly. Good chap, you assume. Sound fellow. They say he strangled an entire pack of Wolf Cubs and fed their bodies to a school of carp? Oh no, I'm sure he didn't; sound fellow, good chap. But if you love a writer, if you depend upon the drip-feed of his intelligence, if you want to pursue him and find him -- despite edicts to the contrary -- then it's impossible to know too much. You seek the vice as well. A pack of Wolf Cubs, eh? Was that twenty-seven or twenty-eight? And did he have their little scarves sewn up into a patchwork quilt? And is it true that as he ascended the scaffold he quoted from the Book of Jonah? And that he bequeathed his carp pond to the local Boy Scouts?
But here's the difference. With a lover, a wife, when you find the worst -- be it infidelity or lack of love, madness or the suicidal spark -- you are almost relieved. Life is as I thought it was; shall we now celebrate this disappointment? With a writer you love, the instinct is to defend. This is what I meant earlier: perhaps love for a writer is the purest ~ Julian Barnes

The day, a compunctious Sunday after a week of blizzards, had been part jewel, part mud. In the midst of my usual afternoon stroll through the small hilly town attached to the girls' college where I taught French literature, I had stopped to watch a family of brilliant icicles drip-dripping from the eaves of a frame house. So clear-cut were their pointed shadows on the white boards behind them that I was sure the shadows of the falling drops should be visible too. But they were not. ("The Vane Sisters") ~ Vladimir Nabokov

The sun was fierce, the land seemed to glisten and drip with steam. ~ Joseph Conrad

I love you. Is that reason enough?"
Maybe. Maybe it would have been. But as the music drained from the air, Kestrel saw Arin on the fringes of the crowd. He watched her, his expression oddly desperate. As if he, too, were losing something, or it was already lost.
She saw him and didn't understand how she had ever missed his beauty. How it didn't always strike her as it did now, like a blow.
"No," Kestrel whispered.
"What?" Ronan's voice cut into the quiet.
"I'm sorry."
Ronan swiveled to find the target of Kestrel's gaze. He swore.
Kestrel walked away, pushing past slaves bearing trays laden with glasses of pale gold wine. The lights and people blurred in her stinging eyes. She walked through the doors, down a hall, out of the palace, and into the cold night, knowing without seeing or hearing or touching him that Arin was at her side. ~ Marie Rutkoski

I remember as a child scrambling among the brilliants of books or, battered with agonies, or in the spectral half-life that requires loneliness, retiring to the attic, to lie curled in a great body-molded chair in the violet-lavender light from the window. There I could study the big adze-squared beams that support the roof--see how they are mortised on into another and pined in place with oaken dowels. When it rains from rustling drip to roar on the roof, it i s a fine secure place. Then the books, tinted with light, the picture books of children grown, seeded, and gone... ~ John Steinbeck

I should warn you, I'm a quick study and drip with good luck."

"Well baby, I should warn you. When I get done with you today, you'll be dripping all right, but it won't be with luck. ~ Annalise Delaney

Across the freeway stands another structure
from the other side of the mirror it destroys
the logical processes of the mind, a man's thoughts
become completely disorganized, madness streaming from every throat
frustrated sounds from the bars, metallic sounds from the walls
the steel trays, iron beds bolted to the wall, thr smells, the human waste.
To determine how men will behave once they enter prison
it is of first importance to know that prison. ~ Adrienne Rich

True love is like a stalactite meeting a stalagmite. Complete opposites, but with time, calcium, and a healthy drip system, they meet in the middle. Or one crushes the other. It really depends. ~ Betsy Schow

We walked into my mother's house at 10:30 in the morning at the end of February 1992. I had been gone for three weeks. She had been so desperate about us - she, too, looked thin and haggard. She was stunned to see me walk in, filthy and crawling with lice, with a huge crowd of starving people.
We ate and drank clean water; then, before we even washed, I put Marian in a taxi with me and told the driver to go to Nairobi Hospital. We had no money left and I knew Nairobi Hospital was expensive; it was where I had been operated on when the ma'alim broke my skull. But I also knew that there they would help us first and ask to pay later. Saving the baby's life had become the only thing that mattered to me.
At the reception desk I announced, "This baby is going to die," and the nurse's eyes went wide with horror. She took him and put a drip in his arm, and very slowly, this tiny shape seemed to uncrumple slightly. After a little while, his eyes opened.
The nurse said, "The child will live," and told us to deal with the bill at the cash desk. I asked her who her director was, and found him, and told this middle-aged Indian doctor the whole story. I said I couldn't pay the bill. He took it and tore it up. He said it didn't matter. Then he told me how to look after the baby, and where to get rehydration salts, and we took a taxi home.
Ma paid for the taxi and looked at me, her eyes round with respect. "Well done," she said. It was a rare compliment.
In the next ~ Ayaan Hirsi Ali

I'm sure glad socks are made out of cotton, and not ice-cube trays, because I don't like keeping my socks in the freezer. Because if I did that, then where would I keep my underwear? ~ Jarod Kintz

Americans who have travelled and who have English friends know we are not necessarily all baddies, but I think that seeing us being so incessantly nasty on screen has a drip, drip, drip effect on the rest of them. ~ David Warner

Baby's World
I wish I could take a quiet corner in the heart of my baby's very
own world.
I know it has stars that talk to him, and a sky that stoops
down to his face to amuse him with its silly clouds and rainbows.
Those who make believe to be dumb, and look as if they never
could move, come creeping to his window with their stories and with
trays crowded with bright toys.
I wish I could travel by the road that crosses baby's mind,
and out beyond all bounds;
Where messengers run errands for no cause between the kingdoms
of kings of no history;
Where Reason makes kites of her laws and flies them, the Truth
sets Fact free from its fetters. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

Planning a wedding is hell. Things are said. Doors are slammed. Quarrels about the most inconsequential things
yellow tablecloths or white? hors d'oeuvres set out on tables or passed around on trays?
are often pitched at such a level that it seems the combatants may never recover from them. Much of the anxiety, of course, is tribal. It is wrenching to have to open the sacred circle to admit an outsider. ~ Caitlin Flanagan

Words are things. A small drip of ink, falling like dew upon a thought, produces that which makes thousands, perhaps even millions. ~ Bryon