Speedboat Quotes

Goggles but no bathing suit?" she asked.
Daniel blushed. "I guess that was stupid. But I was in a hurry, only thinking about what you would need to get the halo." He drove the paddle back into the water, propelling them more quickly than a speedboat. "You can swim in your underwear, right?"
Now Luce blushed. Under normal circumstances, the question might have seemed thrilling, something they both would have giggled at. Not these nine days. She nodded. Eight days now. Daniel was deadly serious. Luce just swallowed hard and said, "Of course."
The pair of green-gray spires grew larger, more detailed, and then they were upon them. They were tall and conical, made of rusted slats of copper. They had once been capped by small teardrop-shaped copper flags sculpted to look like they were rippling in the wind, but one weathered flag was pocked with holes, and the other had broken off completely. In the open water, the spires' protrusion was bizarre, suggesting a cavernous cathedral of the deep. Luce wondered how long ago the church had sunk, how deep it sat below.
The thought of diving down there in ridiculous goggles and mom-bought underwear made her shudder.
"This church must be huge," she said. She meant I don't think I can do this. I can't breathe underwater. How are we going to find one small halo sunk in the middle of the sea?
"I can take you down as far as the chapel itself, but only that far. So long as you hold on to my hand." Daniel extended a w ~ Lauren Kate

Connor and Cameron look wide-eyed at the carnage. Cameron slowed the speedboat down to a crawl. She and Connor looked at Jason.
"Oops," Jason said meekly. Nothing else seemed appropriate.
"Oops?" Connor shouted. "You blew up half the town. ~ Mark A. Cooper

I am huge water sports fan. I love to jet ski, speedboat, water ski. So I love to get away to somewhere sunny and just get on the water and have some fun with some friends. ~ Douglas Booth

Madonna is the speedboat, and the rest of us are just the Go-Gos on water skis. ~ Liz Phair

And I recognized then the process by which I had always attempted difficult things. I had simply not allowed myself to think of the consequences, but had closed my eyes, jumped in, and before I knew where I was, it was impossible to renege. I was basically a dreadful coward, I knew that about myself. The only way I could overcome this was to trick myself with that other self, who lived in dream and fantasy and who was annoyingly lackadaisical and unpractical. All passion, no sense, no order, no instinct for self-preservation. That's what I had done, and now that cowardly self had discovered an unburnt bridge by which to return to the past. As Renata Adler writes in Speedboat: I think when you are truly stuck, when you have stood still in the same spot for too long, you throw a grenade in exactly the spot you were standing in, and jump, and pray. It is the momentum of last resort. ~ Robyn Davidson

Fucking incredible! Four miles in five minutes, with a slight maneuver to avoid an oil barge anchored halfway in. And when the HJ peeled away and abandoned the pursuit and the helicopter began to fall back and gain altitude, Teresa stood up in the middle of the speedboat and, still illuminated by the spotlight, lifted a triumphant single finger. Adiós Cabróooon. ~ Arturo Perez Reverte

Prologue When I began writing this story, I thought I had some idea of what it was about. I was wrong. In my life writing I've discovered that there are times when a story, like architecture, is carefully designed, erected, and furnished. Then there are tales that take their own way, and I find myself being dragged along after them like a white-knuckled water skier behind a speedboat. ~ Richard Paul Evans

I splash enough water in Chloe's face to put out a small house fire. I don't want to drown her, just exfoliate her eyeballs with sea salt. When she thinks I'm done, she opens her eyes-and her mouth. Big mistake. The next wave rinses off the hangy ball in the back of her throat and makes it to her lungs before she can swallow. She chokes and coughs and rubs her eyes as if she's been maced.
"Great, Emma! You got my new hair wet!" she sputters. "Happy now?"
"Nope."
"I said I was sorry." She blows her nose in her hand, then sets the snot to sea.
"Gross. And sorry's not good enough."
"Fine. I'll make it up to you. What do you want?"
"Let me hold your head underwater until I feel better," I say. I cross my arms, which is tricky when straddling a surfboard being pitched around in the wake of a passing speedboat. Chloe knows I'm nervous being this far out, but holding on would be a sign of weakness.
"I'll let you do that because I love you. But it won't make you feel better."
"I won't know for sure until I try it." I keep eye contact, sit a little straighter.
"Fine. But you'll still look albino when you let me back up." She rocks the board and makes me grab it for balance.
"Get your snotty hands off the surfboard. And I'm not albino. Just white." I want to cross my arms again, but we almost tipped over that time. Swallowing my pride is a lot easier than swallowing the Gulf of Mexico.
"White than most," she grins. "People would th ~ Anna Banks

Things have changed very much, several times, since I grew up, and, like everyone in New York except the intellectuals, I have led several lives and I still lead some of them. ~ Renata Adler

skidded the elegant white speedboat skilfully through the ~ Carol Drinkwater

But you can't stay with people because of guilt. Or because they can drive a speedboat. ~ Sophie Kinsella