Gravel Road Quotes

The gravel road widened into a large turnaround where three similar looking and designed brothels sat waiting for customers. They were called Sheila's Front Porch, Tawny's High Five Ranch and Miss Delilah's House of Holies.
"Nice," Rachel said as we surveyed the scene. "why are these places always named after women
as if women actually own them?"
"You got me. I guess Mister Dave's House of Holies wouldn't go over so well with the guys."
Rachel smiled.
"You're right. I guess it's a shrewd move. Name a place of female degradation and slavery after a female and it doesn't sound so bad, does it? It's packaging. ~ Michael Connelly

Instead of continuing on the highway to the gravel road that led to his house, Marlboro Man took an alternate route. "I've got to turn some cattle out of the horse trap," he said. I didn't even know what that meant, but I was game. He drove through a series of twisted, confusing roads--roads I could never imagine understanding or negotiating myself--and stopped at a pasture full of black cattle. Swinging open a couple of gates, he made a few gestures with his arms--and in no time at all, the cattle had gone where they were supposed to go. This man had a way of getting creatures of all kinds--whether it be bovine animals or redheaded women in their midtwenties--to bend to his influence. ~ Ree Drummond

If Mitt Romney is vanilla, Chris Christie is three hefty scoops of Rocky Road topped with whipped cream, Red Bull, and gravel. ~ Ron Fournier

arrived in the same car half an hour later, and as they were putting on rain slickers an ambulance arrived with a crew of three. From the gravel road, they all strained to see the old sycamore, but after a few seconds of focusing it was apparent there was a man hanging from it. Calvin told them everything he knew. The deputies decided it was best to proceed as if a crime had been committed, and they prohibited the ambulance crew from approaching the scene. Another deputy ~ John Grisham

This is how I healed. Or didn't. One evening I took her down to the river. We turned off the highway and rattled slowly up the gravel road and into the heart of the canyon. The walls closed in above us, the high blue of the sky deeper, deep and dark like a river is deep. The highest rock at the rim was a strip of fire, holding the last long sun. The old gorge was a vessel and it was filling with shadow, slowly and with wind. ~ Peter Heller

My favourite road I've ever been on ain't paved. ~ Viktor Tatarczuk

Before she could say anything more, Sabella swung around at the sound of Noah's Harley purring to life behind the garage.
God. He was dressed in snug jeans and riding chaps. A snug dark T-shirt covered his upper body, conformed to it. And he was riding her way.
"Is there anything sexier than a man in riding chaps riding a Harley?" Kira asked behind her. "It makes a woman simply want to melt."
And Sabella was melting. She watched as he pulled around the side of the garage then took the gravel road that led to the back of the house. The sound of the Harley purred closer, throbbing, building the excitement inside her.
"I think it's time for me to leave," Kira said with a light laugh. "Don't bother to see me out."
Sabella didn't. She listened as the Harley drew into the graveled lot behind the house and moved to the back door. She opened it, stepping out on the back deck as he swung his legs over the cycle and strode toward her.
That long-legged lean walk. It made her mouth water. Made her heart throb in her throat as hunger began to race through her.
"The spa treated you well," he announced as he paused at the bottom of the steps and stared back at her. "Feel like messing your hair up and going out this evening? We could have dinner in town. Ride around a little bit."
She hadn't ridden on a motorcycle since she was a teenager. She glanced at the cycle, then back to Noah.
"I'd need to change clothes."
His gaze flickered over her s ~ Lora Leigh

We were hockey gypsies, heading down another gravel road every weekend, plowing into the heart of that magnificent northern landscape. We never gave a thought to being deprived as we travelled, to being shut out of the regular league system. We never gave a thought to being Indian. Different. We only thought of the game and the brotherhood that bound us together off the ice, in the van, on the plank floors of reservation houses, in the truck stop diners where if we'd won we had a little to splurge on a burger and soup before we hit the road again. Small joys. All of them tied together, entwined to form an experience we would not have traded for any other. We were a league of nomads, mad for the game, mad for the road, mad for ice and snow, an Arctic wind on our faces and a frozen puck on the blade of our sticks. ~ Richard Wagamese

Pigpen pulls off the gravel road near the house and severs the engine. I go to open the door and he stops me. "Talk to me a second, and I don't mean me talking and you nodding your head like that's acceptable conversation. ~ Katie McGarry

Twenty minutes 'til 9, we're getting in the truck. I'm sweaty,
stinky and covered in red mud. I'm not sure what Logan smells
like and I don't plan on getting close enough to find out.
"What do you wanna be when you grow up?" he asks, as we
ride along the quiet, foggy, gravel road in the dark.
"Alive," I say, thoughtlessly.
"I like that. Aim low," he retorts. ~ Elizabeth Nicole

Here we go then," Dad says. "Motoring towards our dreams, Bridge."
"You shouldn't follow dreams," Grandma announces.
"Why?" I ask her.
"Because it's a road paved with disappointments, that's why. People should get on with what they've blinking well got at home."
"You can't tell people what their dreams are meant to be."
"I can. But they never listen, do they? ~ Joanna Campbell

It's always been you, Troy. Always." Always is such a bullshit word, a lie, a farce, a road that promises to go on forever. But roads, like life, branch off, and merge and meander. And they both always, always end. ~ Leylah Attar

You revolutionists' the other continued, with leisurely self-confidence, 'are the slaves of the social convention, which is afraid of you; slaves of it as much as the very police that stands up in the defence of that convention. Clearly you are, since you want to revolutionize it. It governs your action, too, and thus neither your thought nor your action can ever be conclusive. (...) 'You are not a bit better than the forces arrayed against you -- than the police, for instance. The other day I came suddenly upon Chief Inspector Heat at the corner of Tottenham Court Road. He looked at me very steadily. But I did not look at him. Why should I give him more than a glance ? He was thinking of many things -- of his superiors, of his reputation, of the law courts, of his salary, of newspapers -- of a hundred things. But I was thinking of my perfect detonator only. He meant nothing to me. He was as insignificant as -- I can't call to mind anything insignificant enough to compare him with -- except Karl Yundt perhaps. Like to like. The terrorist and the policeman both come from the same basket. Revolutions, legality -- counter moves in the same game; forms of idleness at bottom identical. He plays his little game -- so do you propagandists. ~ Joseph Conrad

Forever, Tom thought. Maybe he'd never go back to the States. It was not so much Europe itself as the evenings he had spent alone, here and in Rome, that made him feel that way. Evenings by himself simply looking at maps, or lying around on sofas thumbing through guidebooks. Evenings looking at his clothes - his clothes and Dickie's - and feeling Dickie's rings between his palms, and running his fingers over the antelope suitcase he had bought at Gucci's. He had polished the
suitcase with a special English leather dressing, not that it needed polishing
because he took such good care of it, but for its protection. He loved possessions,
not masses of them, but a select few that he did not part with. They gave a man
self-respect. Not ostentation but quality, and the love that cherished the quality.
Possessions reminded him that he existed, and made him enjoy his existence. It was as simple as that. And wasn't that worth something? He existed. Not many people in the world knew how to, even if they had the money. It really didn't take
money, masses of money, it took a certain security. He had been on the road to it,
even with Marc Priminger. He had appreciated Marc's possessions, and they were
what had attracted him to the house, but they were not his own, and it had been
impossible to make a beginning at acquiring anything of his own on forty dollars a week. It would have taken him the best years of his life, even if he had ec ~ Patricia Highsmith

We alternate choosing places to go, but we also have to be willing to go where the road takes us. This means the grand, the small, the bizarre, the poetic, the beautiful, the ugly, the surprising. Just like life. But absolutely, unconditionally, resolutely nothing ordinary. ~ Jennifer Niven

Refuse to seek for the road to paradise, because every beautiful place is already a paradise! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

Mankind is facing a crossroad - one road leads to despair and utter hopelessness and the other to total extinction - I sincerely hope you graduates choose the right road ~ Woody Allen

I was born into this world without knowing what life was all about. Only power promised fulfillment in life, and I have pursued it--long enough to recognize that it's a false promise and that this road leads to nothing. But I tried. Even if we get no answers to our questions, it is the inalienable right of every living being to search for them--by all means, on all paths, and with all strength. What I did was only what I had a right to do. ~ Andreas Eschbach

He felt a quiet pride about the road he had traveled with this old pack ... He may be scarred and worn in places, but like his pack, he believed he was better for it. ~ Andrew Peterson

I was fifteen when I left school. And what did I get to show for my ten years in the British education system? A piece of paper which said:

John Osbourne attended Birchfield Road Secondary Modern.
Signed, Mr Oldham (Headmaster)

That was f**king it. Not a single qualification. Nothing. I had two career choices: manual labour or manual labour. ~ Ozzy Osbourne

If it's the benefit to myself that drives my decisions, I can know that I'm driving down a long road with a short bridge. ~ Craig D. Lounsbrough

Bessie Stringfield epitomised the Carefree Scamp. She wasn't trying to be any sort of inspiration for black women or female bikers. She was just living her life. It was her road and she knew that no one else could ride it for her ~ Karl Wiggins

Passion is pushing myself when there is no one else around-just me and the road. ~ Ryan Shay

I did nine months in 'Mrs. Klein' in New York, then four months on the road. Then I did a movie directed by Philip Haas, who did 'Angels & Insects'. We shot 'The Blood Oranges' in Mexico for six weeks. ~ Laila Robins

It doesn't matter where I am - China will stay in me. I don't know how far I can still walk on this road and what is the limit. ~ Ai Weiwei

By the middle of the afternoon it had rained so much that the drains were overflowing, clogged up with leaves and newspapers.
The water built up until it was sliding across the road in great sheets, rippled by the wind and parted like a football crowd by passing cars.
I was shocked by the sheer volume of water that came pouring out of the darkness of the sky.
Watching the weight of it crashing into the ground made me feel like a very young child, unable to understand what was really happening.
Like trying to understand radio waves, or imagining computers communicating along glass cables.
I leant my face against the window as the rain piled upon it, streaming down in waves, blurring my vision, making the shops opposite waver and disappear.
There was a time when I might have found this exhilarating, even miraculous, but not that day.
That day it made me nervous and tense, unable to concentrate on anything while the noise of it clattered against the windows and the roof.
I kept opening the door to look for clear skies, and slamming it shut again.
And then around teatime, from nowhere, I smashed all the dirty plates and mugs into the washing-up bowl.
Something swept through me, swept out of and over me, something unstoppable, like water surging from a broken tap and flooding across the kitchen floor.
I don't quite understand why I felt that way, why I reacted like that.
I wanted to be saying it's just somethi ~ Jon McGregor

I suppose not everyone has a dad who wrote a book saying he didn't believe in the Parliamentary road to socialism. ~ Ed Miliband

What's a TH?"
"A Traffic Hazard," Heeb clarified.
"Oh you mean because the woman is so hot she'll take your eyes off the road?" Narc confirmed.
"Exactly. ~ Zack Love

Do not let the hero in your soul parish, in lonely frustration, for the life you deserved but never have been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle. The world you desired can be won. It exists, it is real, it is possible, it is yours. ~ Ayn Rand

The road doesn't have to be infinite after all. Take the hidden paths. ~ Peter Thiel

When this flood blocks the road
I am worried more
by my soil getting washed,
than by getting late
to reach my destination. ~ Suman Pokhrel

Any cyclist will tell you that one of the things they value most about cycling is what it does for their heads. It cleans out the clutter. Cycling allows for reflection. It simultaneously offers time to mull over problems and to escape those problems. It's both meditative and contemplative. Whether you're weaving through traffic or climbing a long country road, the effect is the same. Your body's working, and your mind is working. And when those two things start working in concert, other aspects of life can start falling into place too. ~ BikeSnobNYC

Can you feel it?
We're connected by our hearts that are like invisible strings

I talk to the sky and make a promise with it
I will keep on walking no matter how harsh the road gets

When I stand again on the road we walked on together
There are five overlapping hands, tears and memories

It's so clear, I don't want to forget, I can't forget

The pretty words you left behind became a poem, became a song
Our voices are flying, we know it'll reach you wherever you are
If a star vanishes, will all be forgotten? I'm holding the precious you in my hands
I want to fill the pages of this story that isn't over yet, till the very end

I'll say that I miss you

But it won't fill up my empty heart tonight

We're facing each other, we're still the same

We're still the boys who're dreaming

The pretty words you left behind became a poem, became a song
Our voices are flying, we know it'll reach you wherever you are
If a star vanishes, will all be forgotten? I'm holding the precious you in my hands
I want to fill the pages of this story that isn't over yet, till the very end

May 25, 2005

Boys shining brightly

Like green waves of spring
That time will spread and flow forever

The pretty words you left behind became a poem, became a song
Our voices are flying, we know it'll reach you wherever you are
~ SHINee

the Forest Service has punched 343,000 miles of logging roads into the vast stands of public trees - more than seven times the 44,000 miles of road built by the national highway system. ~ Timothy Egan

Fashion is not simply a matter of clothes. Fashion is in the air, born upon the wind. One intuits it. It is in the sky and on the road. ~ Coco Chanel

Where does the road goes? Sometimes it is better not to ask this question and take a chance! This kind of courage can create a wonderful magic! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

If our economy of freedom fails to distribute wealth as ably as it has created it, the road to dictatorship will be open to any man who can persuasively promise security to all. ~ Will Durant

For all the idealism that propels him through the story, if you read between the lines you may see that at a moment which he considers a defining point in his life as an activist, he's also set the stage for potential ugliness down the road. ~ James Vance

The best preparation for good work tomorrow is to do good work today. ~ Elbert Hubbard

Your road may turn around, but at one time, at some point, you'll definitely have a chance to be yourself. ~ Dee Lestari

As much as her patients might have wanted to adopt a healthier lifestyle, in other words, everything all around them was pushing them in another direction, down the wrong road. ~ Dan Buettner

Any road followed precisely to its end leads precisely nowhere. Climb the mountain just a little bit to test it's a mountain. From the top of the mountain, you cannot see the mountain. ~ Frank Herbert

I read my copy of On the Road and dug the scenery whizzing past. On the Road is a semi-autobiographical novel about Jack Kerouac, a druggy, hard-drinking writer who goes hitchhiking around America, working crummy jobs, howling through the streets at night, meeting people and parting ways. Hipsters, sad-faced hobos, con-men, muggers, scumbags and angels. There's not really a plot -- Kerouac supposedly wrote it in three weeks on a long roll of paper, stoned out of his mind -- only a bunch of amazing things, one thing happening after another. He makes friends with self-destructing people like Dean Moriarty, who get him involved in weird schemes that never really work out, but still it works out, if you know what I mean.

There was a rhythm to the words, it was luscious, I could hear it being read aloud in my head. It made me want to lie down in the bed of a pickup truck and wake up in a dusty little town somewhere in the central valley on the way to LA, one of those places with a gas station and a diner, and just walk out into the fields and meet people and see stuff and do stuff. ~ Cory Doctorow

On the road and traveling - that's when people are at their most creative. ~ Nick Woodman

Suffering attracts fixers the way road-kills attract vultures. ~ Eugene H. Peterson

I never had a ton of male friends and it's always been something that's really interesting to me, what brings guys together? The bonding. 'Old School' is a good example of that. And even 'Starsky' and even 'Road Trip.' ~ Todd Phillips

What I notice, as a historian reading stories about so-called nature miracles, the walking on the water, or the miraculous catch of fishes, they're done especially for the insiders, for the disciples. Usually healings and exorcisms are done for people along the road, as it were. Jesus doesn't come on the water to save the fishing fleet from Capernaum, he comes on the water to save the disciples. It's a parable, dummy, it's a parable, don't you get it? If the leadership of the church takes off in a boat without Jesus, it will sink, it will get nowhere. ~ John Dominic Crossan