Racing In The Rain Enzo Quotes

Gestures are all that I have. ~ Garth Stein

In interviews with riders that I've read and in conversations that I've had with them, the same thing always comes up: the best part was the suffering. In Amsterdam I once trained with a Canadian rider who was living in Holland. A notorious creampuff: in the sterile art of track racing he was Canadian champion in at least six disciplines, but when it came to toughing it out on the road he didn't have the character.
The sky turned black, the water in the ditch rippled, a heavy storm broke loose. The Canadian sat up straight, raised his arms to heaven and shouted: 'Rain! Soak me! Ooh, rain, soak me, make me wet!'
How can that be: suffering is suffering, isn't it?
In 1910, Milan - San Remo was won by a rider who spent half an hour in a mountain hut, hiding from a snowstorm. Man, did he suffer!
In 1919, Brussels - Amiens was won by a rider who rode the last forty kilometers with a flat front tire. Talk about suffering! He arrived at 11.30 at night, with a ninety-minute lead on the only other two riders who finished the race. The day had been like night, trees had whipped back and forth, farmers were blown back into their barns, there were hailstones, bomb craters from the war, crossroads where the gendarmes had run away, and riders had to climb onto one another's shoulders to wipe clean the muddied road signs.
Oh, to have been a rider then. Because after the finish all the suffering turns into memories of pleasure, and the greater the suffering, the great ~ Tim Krabbé

Lying there in bed, dangling in a zone somewhere between sleep and consciousness, he was overcome by a strange feeling: that he was losing control of his life, and for the first time in recent years was unsure of the direction it was taking him. Carl Dias reflects on life in RACING WITH THE RAIN ~ Ken Puddicombe

Well, good afternoon, sunshine. How are you feeling?"
"Like something the cat dragged in, then dragged back outside to leave in the rain, and mud, then the lightning hit it, and burned it, and the cat came back to tear it into pieces, before burying it. ~ Kimberly Montague

I enjoyed your book. You are a descriptive writer who paints well with pen in hand. Your story had a bit of everything....suspense, humor, history, and romance. Most of your main characters have some redeeming qualities about them. I like that.
I know you are working on your second book, and I am looking forward to reading it!
This was certainly a labour of love on your part, and I thank you!
Josie Angod ~ Josie Angod

In Italy, you sometimes get the impression they'd be happier to lose the Ppe than lose their right to drive like maniacs. ~ Jeremy Clarkson

Furthermore, I refuse to be affected by these cheap theatrics!" She gestured to the boiling sky.
"Gor!" Shelton covered his eyes with one hand.
Dougal instantly went from mad to furious, and the clouds rumbled to life. Yet in that instant, he realized that this tiny little bit of a woman had just reduced centuries of a dramatic and secretive curse to "cheap theatrics." He didn't know whether to rage or laugh, but somehow, looking up into her amazing blue eyes, laughter was beginning to win.
"Furthermore," she continued in high dudgeon, "I won't be cowed by a few damned drops of rain!"
Shelton groaned loudly. "Law,here it comes now."
But it didn't. Instead, a chuckle rippled through Dougal.
Sophia appeared outraged. "Are you laughing at me?"
"No,sweetheart. I'm laughing at us. We cannot even ride from the field to the house without racing. We're doomed to challenge each other forever,and if we don't have a care, my temper will try the two of us like sausages over a spit."
Her lips quivered in response. "I don't particularly care for that image."
"I haven't time for elegance, my love. It is getting ready to rain, so sausages are all you'll get. ~ Karen Hawkins

The car goes where the eyes go. ~ Garth Stein

I know this much about racing in the rain. I know it is about balance. It is about anticipation and patience ... [it is also] about the mind! It is about owning one's body ... It is about believing that you are not you; you are everything. And everything is you. ~ Garth Stein

Here's why I will be a good person. Because I listen. I cannot speak, so I listen very well. I never interrupt, I never deflect the course of the conversation with a comment of my own. People, if you pay attention to them, change the direction of one another's conversations constantly. It's like having a passenger in your car who suddenly grabs the steering wheel and turns you down a side street. For instance, if we met a party and I wanted to tell you a story about the time I needed to get a soccer ball in my neighbor's yard but his dog chased me and I had to jump into a swimming pool to escape, and I began telling the story , you, upon hearing the words 'soccer' and 'neighbor' in the same sentence, might interrupt and mention that your childhood neighbor was Pele, the famous soccer player, and I might be courteous and say, Didn't he play for the Cosmos of New York? Did you grow up in New York? And you might reply that no, you grew up in Brazil on the streets of Tres Coracoes with Pele and I might say, I thought you were from Tennessee, and you might say, not originally, and then go on to outline your genealogy at length. So my initial conversational gambit - that I had a funny story about being chased by my neighbor's dog - would be totally lost, and only because you had to tell me all about Pele. Learn to listen! I beg of you. Pretend you are a dog like me and listen to other people rather than steal their stories. ~ Garth Stein

Food for thought....

It took the earths population thousands of years (from early dawn of mankind to early 1800) to reach 1 billion people.
Then astoundingly, it took only 100 years to double it to 2 billion in 1920.
After that, it merely took 50 years for the population to double again to 4 billion in 1970's.
Today, we are on track to reach 8 billion.

Just today, the human race added a quarter million people (250,000) to the human race. And this happens every day- rain or shine. ~ Dan Brown

Again, I am awed, overwhelmed by the strength and emotion conveyed in the human voice. For the first time since this phenomenon started happening to me, I begin to understand the power it could have and why our ancestors mourned its loss. Every sound around me - the renewed pattering of rain, the wind in the leaves - all of is suddenly has a new meaning. I can see how these sounds don't interfere with the world so much as enhance it. The scope and potential are huge. It's like having a new color to paint with. ~ Richelle Mead

It was inestimably important for me to look at the lights of Amherst town in the rain, with the wet black tree-skeletons against the limpid streetlights and gray November mist, and then look at the boy beside me and feel all the hurting beauty go flat because he wasn't the right one-not at all. ~ Sylvia Plath

By the grace of the spiritual master the cloud of the mercy of the Personality of Godhead is brought in, and then only, when the rains of Krishna consciousness fall, can the fire of material existence be extinguished. ~ A C Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada

I'm a car fanatic and each morning I wake up with a smile on my face, whether I'm commentating on the Formula One or at Silver Hatch racetrack in Roary the Racing Car. ~ Murray Walker

His mood, not exactly jubilant after having slept in the rain last night, had grown steadily worse as the day progressed.
"Then why are you pushing so hard?"
"I'd hoped Rydstrom and the others would have caught up with us by now."
She rolled her eyes. "A clue? You slow down when you want people to catch up. ~ Kresley Cole

Here, you can't avoid the changes. And you not only see them, you feel them. You are fully immersed, for better and for worse. You can't escape the truth when you're part of it, day in, day out, through all elements and seasons, no matter what it throws at you. Snow, rain, hail. ~ Gin Getz

IT wanted little more than a fortnight to Christmas; but the weather showed no signs yet of the frost and snow, conventionally associated with the coming season. The atmosphere was unnaturally warm, and the old year was dying feebly in sapping rain and enervating mist. ~ Wilkie Collins

I am a black stone, the size of a kitchen stove. They wash me in the stream every summer and sing over me. I am skulls and cocks, spring rain and the blood of the bull. Virgins lie with strangers in my name, the young priests throw pieces of themselves at my stone feet. I am white corn, and the wind in the corn, and the earth whereof the corn stands up, and the blind worms rolled in an oozy ball of love at the corn's roots. I am rut and flood and honeybees. ~ Peter S. Beagle

It was about eleven o'clock in the morning, mid October, with the sun not shining and a look of hard wet rain in the clearness of the foothills. I was wearing my powder-blue suit, with dark blue shirt, tie and display handkerchief, black brogues, black wool socks with dark little clocks on them. I was neat, clean, shaved and sober, and I didn't care who knew it. I was everything the well-dressed private detective ought to be. I was calling on four million dollars. ~ Raymond Chandler

The last reports from Las Vegas described the abandoned gambling capital sitting half-submerged in a lake of rain-lashed water, its wheels stilled, the dying lights of its hotels reflected in the meadows of the drowned desert, a violent mirror reflecting all the failure and humiliation of America. ~ J.G. Ballard

Surely everyone is aware of the divine pleasures which attend a wintry fireside; candles at four o'clock, warm hearthrugs, tea, a fair tea-maker, shutters closed, curtains flowing in ample draperies to the floor, whilst the wind and rain are raging audibly without. ~ Thomas De Quincey

Why is it that all battles are fought in the middle of the night, in downpouring rain, and at the corners of four different maps? ~ George S. Patton

And then something happened. It was a fragment of time, a breath of time. It was like being in a car in pouring rain and driving under an overpass, and for just that second there is a profound, powerful sense of reprieve- the utter silence of non-rain. ~ Jaclyn Moriarty

Later they went outside, where a light rain was blowing in, mixed with salt spray feathering off the surf. Shasta wandered slowly down to the beach and through the wet sand, her nape in a curve she had learned, from times when back-turning came into it, the charm of. Doc followed the prints of her bare feet already collapsing into rain and shadow, as if in a fool's attempt to find his way back into a past that despite them both had gone on into the future it did. The surf, only now and then visible, was hammering at his spirit, knocking things loose, some to fall into the dark and be lost forever, some to edge into the fitful light of his attention whether he wanted to see them or not. ~ Thomas Pynchon

With 'Street Fight,' it took an urban mayoral election and found lots of complexity in there. The same with 'Racing Dreams.' I wanted to show complexity within this world that most documentary people don't know anything about. ~ Marshall Curry

Life didn't explode in the sunshine and pretty places. Life took the strongest root with a little bit of rain and with a whole lot of shit for fertilizer. Although love could grow in times of peace, it tempered in battle. ~ Karen Marie Moning

Bit burrs. Tongue-tying. Saddling for exercise and saddling for races. There was shoeing and bandaging, conditioning and equipment. I had to learn to read track surfaces and stakes sheets, and calculate weight allowances. I had to know the diseases and ailments forward and back - bowed tendons and splints, foundering, bucked shins, bone chips, slab fractures, and quarter cracks. Thoroughbreds were glorious and also fragile in very specific ways. They often had small hearts, and the exertion of racing also made them susceptible to haemorrhaging in the lungs. Undetected colic could kill them - and ~ Paula McLain

And cried for mamma, at every turn'-I added, 'and trembled if a country lad heaved his fist against you, and sat at home all day for a shower of rain.-Oh, Heathcliff, you are showing a poor spirit! Come to the glass, and I'll let you see what you should wish. Do you mark those two lines between your eyes, and those thick brows, that instead of rising arched, sink in the middle, and that couple of black fiends, so deeply buried, who never open their windows boldly, but lurk glinting under them, like devil's spies? Wish and learn to smooth away the surly wrinkles, to raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident, innocent angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends where they are not sure of foes-Don't get the expression of a vicious cur that appears to know the kicks it gets are its desert, and yet, hates all the world, as well as the kicker, for what it suffers.'
'In other words, I must wish for Edgar Linton's great blue eyes, and even forehead,' he replied. 'I do - and that won't help me to them.'
'A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad,' I continued, 'if you were a regular black; and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something worse than ugly. And now that we've done washing, and combing, and sulking - tell me whether you don't think yourself rather handsome? I'll tell you, I do. You're fit for a prince in disguise. Who knows, but your father was Emperor of China, and your mother an Indian queen, each of them ~ Emily Bronte

Along the pavement-colored hall doors stood half open on either side, all the way down; each one was numbered in bright bald tin, each one stood just so much ajar in the gas-lit corridor. Just enough to reveal half-dressed men and women waiting for the rain or about to make love or already through loving and about to get drunk; or already half drunk and beginning to argue about how soon it was going to rain or whose turn it was to run down for whisky or whether it was time to make love again or forget it for once and just wait for rain. ~ Nelson Algren

You know, we queens loathed rain at the beach, small cocks, and reality, I think. In that order. ~ Andrew Holleran

Adam's apple is still front and center in the photo, unmistakable. I suppose Vic and Virgil could be twins. But still. I grab my cell phone and punch in the number on the screen. Three rings later, I hear someone grab the receiver on the other end. It sounds like it falls to the floor with a run of static and curses, and then is recovered. "What." "Is this Mr. Stanhope?" I whisper. "Yeah," the voice growls. "Virgil Stanhope?" There is a pause. "Not anymore," the voice slurs, and he hangs up. My pulse is racing. Either Virgil Stanhope is back from the dead or he never was dead. Maybe he just wanted people to think ~ Jodi Picoult