Speeding Quotes

Scars If you are like most people, once the acne is gone you will probably have some degree of scarring. The same protocols mentioned in this book are fantastic for eliminating scars over time. Scars can take longer to heal. Another huge help to speeding up the healing of scars is microneedling. This sounds painful but it really isn't. Microneedlers work by having numerous microneedles on a roller make tiny punctures in the dermis, causing blood to rush to the area with its healing factors, including stem cells, that restore the area. Use once every week or two weeks over affected ~ Kyle Craichy

Life is beautiful. He who reads that
As in the window of some distant, speeding train
Knows what he wants, and what will befall. ~ John Ashbery

We have to overthrow the idea that it's a diversion from 'real' work when scientists conduct high-quality research in the open. Publicly funded science should be open science. Improving the way that science is done means speeding us along in curing cancer, solving the problem of climate change and launching humanity permanently into space. ~ Michael Nielsen

She paused and met his gaze straight on. "You should be seeing someone your own age, Troy Lee."

"Please don't start that bullshit again. It's not the issue and you know it."

"Really. What, pray tell, is the issue?"

"We've been out one time and already you're looking for me to cut and run." He shook his head. "You're doing it again. Speeding ahead, looking for where you think you're going, instead of seeing what's along the way. You gotta learn to slow down and enjoy the ride, Angel. ~ Linda Winfree

There is always
laughter out of the speeding
vehicles for the man
who is still, half-way though he be
in a better direction. ~ R.S. Thomas

All the dying that summer began with the death of a child, a boy with golden hair and thick glasses, killed on the railroad tracks outside New Bremen, Minnesota, sliced into pieces by a thousand tons of steel speeding across the prairie toward South Dakota. His name was Bobby Cole. He was a sweet-looking kid and by that I mean he had eyes that seemed full of dreaming and he wore a half smile as if he was just about to understand something you'd spent an hour trying to explain. I should have known him better, been a better friend. He lived not far from my house and we were the same age. But he was two years behind me in school and might have been held back even more except for the kindness of certain teachers. He was a small kid, a simple child, no match at all for the diesel-fed drive of a Union Pacific locomotive. It ~ William Kent Krueger

I'm seventeen. Seems like I only blinked and here I am. I'm speeding like a rocket toward death. I'm spiraling toward the end of now and the start of infinity. It's a countdown. But to what? Can't gift wrap eternity. ~ Jackie Lea Sommers

If Los Angeles is a woman reclining billboard model and the San Fernando Valley is her teenybopper sister, then New York is their cousin. Her hair is dyed autumn red or aubergine or Egyptian henna, depending on her mood. Her skin is pale as frost and she wears beautiful Jil Sander suits and Prada pumps on which she walks faster than a speeding taxi (when it is caught in rush hour, that is). Her lips are some unlikely shade of copper or violet, courtesy of her local MAC drag queen makeup consultant. She is always carrying bags of clothes, bouquets of roses, take-out Chinese containers, or bagels. Museum tags fill her pockets and purses, along with perfume samples and invitations to art gallery openings. When she is walking to work, to ward off bums or psychos, her face resembles the Statue of Liberty, but at home in her candlelit, dove-colored apartment, the stony look fades away and she smiles like the sterling roses she has brought for herself to make up for the fact that she is single and her feet are sore. ~ Francesca Lia Block

Others will always show you exactly where you are stuck. They say or do something and you automatically get hooked into a familiar way of reacting - shutting down, speeding up, or getting all worked up. When you react in the habitual way, with anger, greed, and so forth, it gives you a chance to see your patterns and work with them honestly and compassionately. Without others provoking you, you remain ignorant of your painful habits and cannot train in transforming them into the path of awakening. ~ Pema Chodron

*One clue that there's something not quite real about sequential time the way you experience it is the various paradoxes of time supposedly passing and of a so-called 'present' that's always unrolling into the future and creating more and more past behind it. As if the present were this car - nice car by the way - and the past is the road we've just gone over, and the future is the headlit road up ahead we haven't yet gotten to, and time is the car's forward movement, and the precise present is the car's front bumper as it cuts through the fog of the future, so that it's now and then a tiny bit later a whole different now, etc. Except if time is really passing, how fast does it go? At what rate does the present change? See? Meaning if we use time to measure motion or rate - which we do, it's the only way you can - 95 miles per hour, 70 heartbeats a minute, etc. - how are you supposed to measure the rate at which time moves? One second per second? It makes no sense. You can't even talk about time flowing or moving without hitting up against paradox right away. So think for a second: What if there's really no movement at all? What if this is all unfolding in the one flash you call
the present, this first, infinitely tiny split-second of impact when the speeding car's front bumper's just starting to touch the abutment, just before the bumper crumples and displaces the front end and you go violently forward and the steering column comes back at your chest as if shot out of s ~ David Foster Wallace

The only good thing about fame that I've gotten is I've gotten out of a couple of speeding tickets. I've gotten into a restaurant when I didn't have a suit and tie on. That's really about it. ~ Bill Murray

They said that Superman was faster than a speeding train. If that's the case, how fast were his sperm and would Lois survive?
It makes you think, doesn't it? ~ Anthony T. Hincks

A sea-green sky: lamps blossoming white. This is marginal land: fields of strung wire, of treadless tyres in ditches, fridges dead on their backs, and starving ponies cropping the mud. It is a landscape running with outcasts and escapees, with Afghans, Turks and Kurds: with scapegoats, scarred with bottle and burn marks, limping from the cities with broken ribs. The life forms here are rejects, or anomalies: the cats tipped from speeding cars, and the Heathrow sheep, their fleece clotted with the stench of aviation fuel. ~ Hilary Mantel

Like a speeding train
I am passing by...
I don't know
where I'm heading
with whom or why
all I know is that
I will never, ever
pass from here again
all I know is I'm skidding forward
on this track of life. ~ Sanober Khan

Then everything was normal again, except that the liner was speeding for the planet Krim at something more than thirty times the speed of light. Normality extended through all the galaxy so far inhabited by men. There were worlds on which there was peace, and worlds on which there was tumult. There were busy, zestful young worlds, and languid, weary old ones. From the Near Rim to the farthest of occupied systems, planets circled their suns, and men lived on them, and every man took himself seriously and did not quite believe that the universe had existed before he was born or would long survive his loss. Time passed. Comets let out vast streamers like bridal veils and swept toward and around their suns. Some of them - one in ten thousand, or twenty - were possibly seen by human eyes. The liner bearing Hoddan sped through the void. In time it made a landfall on the Planet Krim. ~ Murray Leinster

By overhauling current rules and speeding the entry of competitors in the market, we encourage competition and provide our constituents with new choices and cheaper bills. ~ Melissa Bean

It was like being in a car with the gas pedal slammed down to the floor and nothing to do but hold on and pretend to have some semblance of control. But control was something I'd lost a long time ago. ~ Nic Sheff

Thus the twentieth century was gradually speeding up to today's rate of progress; its achievements, therefore, were equivalent to about twenty years of progress at the rate in 2000. We'll make another twenty years of progress in just fourteen years (by 2014), and then do the same again in only seven years. To express this another way, we won't experience one hundred years of technological advance in the twenty-first century; we will witness on the order of twenty thousand years of progress (again, when measured by today's rate of progress), or about one thousand times greater than what was achieved in the twentieth century. ~ Ray Kurzweil

So Wolf, what did you do?" – Sundown
"You mean before or after I soiled my jeans? Which, by the way, I want kudos for coming back in the cab when I could have gone home. The foot valve was stuck. It doesn't happen often. But it can happen as you just saw. If you're lucky you can pop it back out from the cab. Obviously, given the horrors of this night, I wasn't lucky so I had to crawl under the damn thing at ninety miles an hour and pound it out from underneath. I don't ever want to hang like that under a speeding vehicle again. I swear I just lost eight of my nine lives." – Sasha
"What is it with you the cat analogies?" – Sundown ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

[ ... ] and as I walked, I tried to see the funny side. It wasn't easy, and I'm still not sure that I managed it properly, but it's just something I like to do when things aren't going well. Because what does it mean, to say that things aren't going well? Compared to what? You can say: compared to how things were going a couple of hours ago, or a couple of years ago. But that's not the point. If two cars are speeding towards a brick wall with no brakes, and one car hits the wall moments before the other, you can't spend those moments saying that the second car is much better off than the first. ~ Hugh Laurie

I think God's going to come down and pull civilization over for speeding. ~ Steven Wright

But the transition from the New York Times to the Ashton Clarion was like jumping off a speeding train into a wall of half-set Jell-O. ~ Frank E. Peretti

There are more repercussions for a person being a chronic speeding violator in our country, than there is for a big bank being a chronic violator of S.E.C. rules! ~ Martin O'Malley

You see four guys bunched on a corner waiting for you, you either run like hell in the opposite direction without hesitation, or you keep on walking without slowing down or speeding up or breaking stride ... Truth is, it's smarter to run. The best fight is the one you don't have. But I have never claimed to be smart. Just obstinate, and occasionally bad-tempered. Some guys kick cats. I keep walking. - Jack Reacher ~ Lee Child

Suicide is the night train, speeding your way to darkness. ~ Martin Amis

The peculiar fascination which the South held over my imagination and my limited capital decided me in favor of Atlanta University; so about the last of September I bade farewell to the friends and scenes of my boyhood and boarded a train for the South. ~ James Weldon Johnson

Life is a crowded superhighway with bewildering cloverleaf exits on which a man is liable to find himself speeding back in the direction he came. ~ Peter De Vries

As the nation groped to understand the enormity of their loss, the need to apportion blame was the inevitable handmaiden of their grief. Before it was discovered that the driver was drunk and speeding, it was the notorious paparazzi who were in the dock. Speaking from South Africa, Earl Spencer was the first to point a finger. Visibly angered by the waste of his sister's life he said: 'I always believed the press would kill her in the end. But not even I could imagine that they would take such a direct hand in her death as seems to be the case. It would appear that every proprietor and editor of every publication that has paid for intrusive and exploitative photographs of her, encouraging greedy and ruthless individuals to risk everything in pursuit of Diana's image, has blood on their hands today.'
He went on: 'Finally the one consolation is that Diana is now in a place where no human being can ever touch her again. I pray that she rests in peace. ~ Andrew Morton

For so it is among those who shed lives every few years: they keep their deflated interior causeways, hold them running parallel with their current useable ones; ghost arteries, sleeping shrunken next to those that pump life. Hushed lymphatics, like quiet ivy alongside the speeding juice of now. Nerve trees like bone coral, hugging the whisper of bellowing communications. ~ Brian Catling

In August of 2002, I survived a car accident. Although I can still see the van speeding toward us, I cannot bring to mind the crash itself - only its aftermath. ~ Siri Hustvedt

Sometimes you're the one speeding along in a panic, doing too much, not paying attention, wrecking things you don't mean to. And sometimes life just happens to you, and you can't dodge it. It crashes into you because it wants to see what you're made of. Despite how terrifying the story was to me as a kid, I still ~ Alexandra Bracken

A grown man who can shed tears without embarrassment is like a yogi who has learned to expel toxic matter from his body by consciously speeding up the peristaltic rhythm. He can eliminate many of life's poisons ~ Christopher Isherwood

The left-hand lane is exclusively for the use of Porsches, BMWs and Mercedes. Dark-coloured vehicles only please. If you're driving a white or silver car please stick to the middle lane at all times and moderate your speed. Loser! ~ Cathy Dobson

All my best memories of my brother are in vehicles, speeding, predatory or celebratory. We were just made to drive. For the last 12 years of his life, he lived as caretaker of an orange grove. There, on 18 acres, my brother collected cars and trucks and motorcycles. ~ Susan Straight

Here is what the end of the world looks like:
It looks like a child running out into the road, eyes focused only on some destination ahead - the future, which is on the other side - and the child fails to notice the speeding truck that is there, on that same road, in the present.
This is what the end of the world looks like.
All roads cross here. ~ Andrew Smith

We are speeding up our lives and working harder in a futile attempt to buy the time to slow down and enjoy it. ~ Paul Hawken

He can't fly around tall buildings, or outrun a speeding train, the only talent he seems to have is leaving a nasty stain! ~ Tim Burton

It took me years to learn to sit at my desk for more than two minutes at a time, to put up with the solitude and the terror of failure, and the godawful silence and the white paper. And now that I can take it . . . now that I can finally do it . . . I'm really raring to go.

I was in my study writing. I was learning how to go down into myself and salvage bits and pieces of the past. I was learning how to sneak up on the unconscious and how to catch my seemingly random thoughts and fantasies. By closing me out of his world, Bennett had opened all sorts of worlds inside my own head. Gradually I began to realize that none of the subjects I wrote poems about engaged my deepest feelings, that there was a great chasm between what I cared about and what I wrote about. Why? What was I afraid of? Myself, most of all, it seemed.

"Freedom is an illusion," Bennett would have said and, in a way, I too would have agreed. Sanity, moderation, hard work, stability . . . I believed in them too. But what was that other voice inside of me which kept urging me on toward zipless fucks, and speeding cars and endless wet kisses and guts full of danger? What was that other voice which kept calling me coward! and egging me on to burn my bridges, to swallow the poison in one gulp instead of drop by drop, to go down into the bottom of my fear and see if I could pull myself up? Was it a voice? Or was it a thump? Something even more primitive than speech. A kind of pounding in my gut ~ Erica Jong

While she eventually adjusts to the faded motivational posters featuring long-dead baby animals and the fifties-era reading books whose soporific effects have intensified with each decade of use she can't get it out of of her head that while she is speeding around in circles waiting to be told when to stop other kids are flying to the moon. ~ Myla Goldberg

I get speeding ticket like everybody else. If the restaurant is full I'm waiting in line like everybody else. ~ Mikhail Baryshnikov

God says that he will give you grace to handle the disappointments that lie ahead; your task is to live for him in the present. At first, this feels reckless, as if you were enjoying the thrill of a speeding car when you are courting devastation at the next turn. But it isn't reckless to trust in God rather than yourself. ~ Edward T. Welch

Hey, did you hear about Brad Miller?" he asked, already forgetting about the Lissie conversation. "He got his car taken away for getting another speeding ticket. Of course he tried to tell his parents it was a setup."
Violet laughed. "Yeah, because the police have nothing better to do than to plan a sting operation targeting eleventh-grade idiots." She was more than willing to go along with this diversion from conversations about Jay and his many admirers.
Jay laughed too, shaking his head. "You're so cold-hearted," he said to Violet, shoving her a little but playing along. "How's he supposed to go cruising for unsuspecting freshmen and sophomores without a car? What willing girl is going to ride on the handlebars of his ten-speed?"
"I don't see you driving anything but your mom's car yet. At least he has a bike," she said, turning on him now.
He pushed her again. "Hey!" he tried to defend himself. "I'm still saving! Not all of us are born with a silver spoon in our mouths."
They were both laughing, hard now. The silver spoon joke had been used before, whenever one of them had something the other didn't.
"Right!" Violet protested. "Have you seen my car?" This time she shoved him, and a full-scale war broke out on the couch.
"Poor little rich girl!" Jay accused, grabbing her arm and pulling her down.
She giggled and tried to give him the dreaded "dead leg" by hitting him with her knuckle in the thigh. But he was too strong, and what used ~ Kimberly Derting

Clocks measure arbitrary meters of time, but not its speed. Nobody knows if time is speeding up, or slowing down. Nobody knows what it is. How much time is there in a day? Not how many hours, minutes, seconds: how much TIME do we have?
This day? ~ David Mitchell

She drove like fucking Danica Patrick. Jesus. He'd actually been nervous, speeding over winding mountain roads, weaving around slower traffic--which was everyone. He'd been damn glad to see the hotel. ~ Susan Fanetti

There is a light that glimmers along the darkening edge of an infinite horizon. In that light the heart finds what the heart seeks. In that light, Dumbo goes where his beloved Zombie goes. In that light, a boy named Ben Parish finds his baby sister. In that light, Marika saves a little girl called Teacup. In that light promises are kept, dreams realized, time redeemed.
And Zombie's voice speeding Dumbo toward the light "You made it private. You found me."
No darkness slamming down. No endless fall into lightlessness. All was light when I felt Dumbo's soul break the horizon.
Lost, found, and all was light. ~ Rick Yancey

Hi, I'm Adele Czerny. I don't really have a long speech. I mean, I sat through these things when I was your age, and they're boring. I'm just going to say a few things about Noah and Raven Day. Did any of you guys know him?"
In unison, Gansey and Adam started to lift their hands and just as quickly dropped them. Yes, they knew him. No, they had not known him. Noah, alive, had been before their time here. Noah, dead, was a phenomenon, not an acquaintance.
"Well, you were missing out," she said. "My mom always said he was a firecracker, which just meant he was always getting speeding tickets and jumping on tables at family reunions and stuff. He always had so many ideas. He was so hyper."
Adam and Gansey looked at each other. They had always had the sense that the Noah they knew was not the true Noah. It was just disconcerting to hear how much Noahness death had stripped. It was impossible to not wonder what Noah would have done with himself if he had lived.
"Anyway, I'm here because I was actually the first one he told about his idea for Raven Day. He called me one evening, I guess it would've been when he was fourteen, and he told me he'd had this dream about ravens fighting and battling. He said they were all different colours and sizes and shapes, and he was inside them, and they were, like, swirling around him." She motioned around herself in a whirlwind; she had Noah's hands, Noah's elbows. "And he told me, 'I think it would be a cool art project.' And ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Nicholas came up beside me. "Damn it, Sol. Ever heard of the speed limit?"
"Oh, right, coming from the guy who got three speeding tickets the first week he had his license."
"That's different." At least he had the grace to look sheepish. ~ Alyxandra Harvey

The rush is there and my body tingles. Sounds funny but it's true. It's better than shafting a bird. Better than speeding. Mark's head is a mess but the bleeding has stopped. My knuckles are bruised and Rod's eyes have gone a bit mental looking. We join the crush trying to get into the ground and we can hear the constant chant of CHELSEA. This is what life's all about. Tottenham away. Love it. ~ John King

People spend so much time in their cars, and it's a legal way to have fun by speeding a little bit or testing yourself a little bit, and you get to invest in your car. For some people, it becomes their baby. ~ Jordana Brewster

Reading off a page is like looking down at a landscape from a balloon – your eye "sees" the story as well as reads it, its layout, its paragraphs and structure, and "remembers" what it just read because it's still there, on the page, simultaneously. If you want to, you can reread any line instantly; or linger; or speed up; or optically "flinch." Reading a series of tweets is more like looking through a narrow window from a train speeding through a landscape full of tunnels and bands of light and dark. Each tweet erases its predecessor. ~ David Mitchell

Somebody who has been in a very bad wreck is going to be very conscientious about not speeding through a yellow light ... You just learn so many good lessons when you go through a failed marriage. ~ Amy Grant

Human interaction is the key force in overcoming resistance and speeding change. ~ Atul Gawande

In the old days, you would have one lawyer to handle everything: speeding tickets, buying a house, contracts, litigation, real estate, copyrights, leasing, entertainment, intellectual property, forensic accounting, criminal offenses ... the list goes on. Now, you have to have a separate lawyer for each one of those categories! ~ James Belushi

Witch Mildred was invited
to the wondrous Witches' Wobble,
a Halloween festivity
where witches go to gobble.

Her snakeskin invitation read:

Feasting Starts at Eight!
A Grand Buffet (with Skunk Filet!)

Hopping on her broomstick,
She took off from a thicket.
She raced along the back roads
to dodge a speeding ticket.

A skeleton soon hailed her.
(His bones could use some meat!)
He pled, "Please! I'm so hungry,
I rattle head to feet."

A jack-o'-lantern hollered,
"Please take me from this wall,
for some, I dread, might use my head
as a soccer ball."

Soon the three encountered
a ghost who was in tears.
"Please take me from this graveyard.
It's much too spooky here."

A shaky, quaky mummy
called, "I'm ready to collapse.
Please find me a warm hearthside,
for I forgot my wraps!"

A bat swooped down upon them.
He squeaked, "Please wait for me!
I'll go batty when the sexton bongs
the bells in my belfry."

A black cat yowled,
"Please take me.
I need some company,
for when I cross their pathways,
people run from me! ~ Elizabeth Spurr

My life is like a speeding bullet that just hasn't hit the target yet. ~ Kid Cudi

If the war against drugs is lost, then so are the wars against theft, speeding, incest, fraud, rape, murder, arson, and illegal parking. Few, if any, such wars are winnable. So let us all do anything we choose. ~ Theodore Dalrymple

At every single moment, the whole creation is beginning again, stretching the tent of the present moment to bursting. And the waves that push up through the oceans, and the waves that push up through the stars; and the waves that push upwards through history are the same waves that push up through us. And so we have to say yes to time, even though it means speeding forward into memory; forgetfulness; and oblivion. Say "no" to time; hold on to what you were or what she was; hold onto the past, even out of love ... and I swear it will tear you to shreds. This universe will tear you to shreds. ~ Craig Wright

If God sets your speed limit high, don't be afraid of your life-car being crashed. ~ Munia Khan

So I guess what I'm trying to say is that life is fast. And it keeps speeding up. Sometimes I lose track of the season - or even the year. And we just have to make the best of it all. ~ Emily Giffin

Do you know how fast you were going?"
Fang looked at the speedometer ... "No," he said truthfully.
I tagged you at seventy miles per hour,"she said, pulling out a clipboard.
I let out an impressed whistle. "Excellent! I never thought we'd be that fast." Fang shot me a look and I put my hand over my mouth. ~ James Patterson

All the same I fear what happens when we expand the terrain of medical practice to include actively assisting people with speeding their death. I am less worried about the abuse of these powers than I am about dependence on them. ~ Atul Gawande

I am no spring chicken but I am not an old lady. I know the names of all the members of Odd Future but I didn't have the Internet in college. I can party like a twenty-year-old but it takes me almost a week to recover. Sometimes I am a tired mother taking her kids to the park, and other times I am a petulant teenager giving the finger to a speeding FedEx truck. I idle right in the middle. ~ Amy Poehler

Emergency One.What's the problem?"
"It's my heart."
The familiar deep voice had her pausing mid-stride. "Wyatt?"
"Yeah.I meant to ask you to call me when you got home so I'd know you were safe. Now I've been having heart palpitations worrying about you all alone on that long stretch of highway."
"Pretty good timing,rebel.That highway is just a memory now.I'm already inside my apartment and heading toward the bedroom."
"I'm betting you set a new speed record."
She laughed. "And broke a few speeding laws along the way.But I'm home now,safe and sound. I hope this eases your worries about me."
"Yeah.I can sleep now.But I still wish you'd agreed to bunk out here with me. Good night,Marilee. ~ R.C. Ryan

Every deadline was a crisis ... No doubt it has something to do with a deep-seated personality defect, or maybe a kink in whatever blood vessel leads into the pineal gland ... On the other hand, it might easily be something as simple and basically perverse as whatever instinct it is that causes a jackrabbit to wait until the last possible second to dart across the road in front of a speeding car. ~ Hunter S. Thompson

In Stalin's famous words, one death is a tragedy; one million deaths is a statistic. In this case, it is not even a particularly good statistic. The very incomprehensibility of what a million horrible and violent deaths might mean, and the impossibility of producing an appropriate response, is perhaps the reason that the events following partition have yielded such a great and moving body of fictional literature and such an inadequate and flimsy factual history. What does it matter to the readers of history today whether there were 200,000 deaths, or 1 million, or 2 million? On that scale, is it possible to feel proportional revulsion, to be five times more upset at 1 million deaths than at 200,000? Few can grasp the awfulness of how it might feel to have their fathers barricaded in their houses and burnt alive, their mothers beaten and thrown off speeding trains, their daughters torn away, raped and branded, their sons held down in full view, screaming and pleading, while a mob armed with rough knives hacked off their hands and feet. All these things happened, and many more like them; not just once, but perhaps a million times. It is not possible to feel sufficient emotion to appreciate this monstrous savagery and suffering. That is the true horror of the events in the Punjab in 1947: one of the vilest episodes in the whole of history, a devastating illustration of the worst excesses to which human beings can succumb. The death toll is just a number. ~ Alex Von Tunzelmann

I know you told me you'd wait for me, but I don't want either of us to wait anymore. Especially when I knew from the first moment I saw you that you were special. I feel like I've been running my whole life, speeding from small town into a big city, jumping from one place to the next for years until they all blurred together. And right when I decided it was time to finally stop running and set down some roots, there you were. My new beginning." Her eyes filled with tears as she smiled up at him and slid her arms around his neck to pull him closer. "My love."
Jack sank down onto the couch with Mary, her curves soft beneath his muscles. "I'll always be yours, Angel. Forever. ~ Bella Andre

We rode the basement trains all night, speeding through the subterrains. I held her chin in the cup of my hand and her eyes held tight to mine, imploring me to reveal to her the mystery of that which awaits us on the pavement above, come the day we ascend from this labyrinth of trains ... 'We will ride these beautiful basement trains forever,' said I, 'nothing awaits us; and as your beauty folds, so do my dreams. Come, my love, let us wander these tunnels of the endless city. This holy, endless city! ~ Roman Payne

And I wonder if any of the road-kill creatures actually wanted to die and threw themselves beneath the speeding wheels. A lethargic swallow who couldn't bear the prospect of flying all the way back to Africa again. An insomniac hedgehog who couldn't stand the thought of lying awake all winter with no one to talk to. ~ Sara Baume

A kiss about apple pie a la mode with the vanilla creaminess melting in the pie heat. A kiss about chocolate, when you haven't eaten chocolate in a year. A kiss about palm trees speeding by, trailing pink clouds when you drive down the Strip sizzling with champagne. A kiss about spotlights fanning the sky and the swollen sea spilling like tears all over your legs. ~ Francesca Lia Block

So much depends upon a blue car splattered with mud speeding down the road. ~ Sharon Creech

People who claim to know jackrabbits will tell you they are primarily motivated by Fear, Stupidity, and Craziness. But I have spent enough time in jack rabbit country to know that most of them lead pretty dull lives; they are bored with their daily routines: eat, fuck, sleep, hop around a bush now and then ... No wonder some of them drift over the line into cheap thrills once in a while; there has to be a powerful adrenalin rush in crouching by the side of a road, waiting for the next set of headlights to come along, then streaking out of the bushes with split-second timing and making it across to the other side just inches in front of the speeding front wheels ~ Hunter S. Thompson

Ruxs moaned a slutty sound, his hips speeding up and Green eagerly matched him. "Soon I'm going to put that pretty cock in my mouth and suck you until you explode down my throat," he said, licking the shell of Ruxs' ear. "Chris," Ruxs hissed. "I'm not gonna last." Green could feel his own balls tightening. It'd been too long since he'd had something besides his toys and his hand to pleasure him. Ruxs' cock was hot and heavy against his. Pulsing greedily. "You like me talking to you like that?" Green squeezed his fist tighter, making sure to flick the cap of Ruxs' bulging head with every stroke. "Answer me." He bent down and bit Ruxs' nipple, making him jerk so hard he almost fell off of him. "Shit!" Ruxs yelled. Green slowed his movement and raised his head. "Well, look what I found." "You talk too damn much." Ruxs gripped his head and lowered him back to his nipple. Green ~ A.E. Via

Protestant churches everywhere are gravitating toward union with the Roman Catholic Church. These religious movements are speeding the fulfillment of the prophecies of the resurrected Roman Empire. For 30 years I have been proclaiming this tremendous event over the air and in print, ~ Herbert W. Armstrong

She would let a speeding automobile hit her to show them all how unloved she was. ~ Lisa Dierbeck

The West has made people too time-conscious, not knowing where they are going but speeding to get there because time is short. ~ Rajneesh

She'd read books that said two lovers' hearts could race as one. This wasn't true for Miyoung. Her heart chased Jihoon's, speeding in a breakneck sprint to catch up. ~ Kat Cho

I'm not good with speeding," said Shirley, sounding more than a little anxious. "The speed limits are there for a reason. Cars aren't meant to go fast. ~ Jeff Strand

It soared, a bird, it held its flight, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped serene, speeding, sustained, to come, don't spin it out too long long breath he breath long life, soaring high, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high in the effulgence symbolistic, high, of the ethereal bosom, high, of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the all, the endlessnessnessness ... ~ James Joyce

Ruxs woke up feeling loved and sorer than he'd ever been in his life. He'd been thrown from two story windows, wrestled with five men at once, even been thrown from a speeding car, but nothing compared to the feel of your ass being fucked by a man that was heavily muscled and well endowed. He noticed he was in bed alone, but he smiled because he could smell the scent of cinnamon buns. Ruxs turned on his side, groaning at the aches. But damn if his man didn't make him soar. He'd never felt that good before, never been that aroused or come so hard. He ~ A.E. Via

He calmed himself, shut his eyes, and fell asleep. The rear light of consciousness, like the last express train of the night, began to fade into the distance, gradually speeding up, growing smaller until it was, finally, sucked into the depths of night, where it disappeared. All that remained was the sound of the wind slipping through a stand of white birch trees. ~ Haruki Murakami

His phone rang just as he set his evidence kit on the ground. He glanced at the display and took the call. "Hey, Mom."
"I ran into Cindy Jenners at the store today."
"No."
"She's such a nice young woman."
"Not interested."
"Your sisters abandoned me."
"They didn't abandon you. They got married."
"They moved to other states. I don't have a single grandchild. within driving distance. How can they be so curel?" She gave a guilt-laden pause. "Mrs. Ottmann said she saw you talking to some blonde with Massachusetts license plates by the feed store yesterday."
Chase closed his eyes and brushed his thumb and forefinger over his eyelids. "I was giving her a speeding ticket... ~ Dana Marton

My hand was on the door handle when for a split second out of nowhere I was terrified, blue-blazing terrified, fear dropping straight through me like a jagged black stone falling fast. I'd felt this before, in the limbo instants before I moved out of my aunt's house, lost my virginity, took my oath as a police officer: those instants when the irrevocable thing you wanted so much suddenly turns real and solid, inches away and speeding at you, a bottomless river rising and no way back once it's crossed. I had to catch myself back from crying out like a little kid drowning in terror, I don't want to do this any more. ~ Tana French

With an obscure hesitation one steps into the day and its frame and its costume. Between the puzzlement and its summary abandonment, between the folds of waking consciousness and their subsequent limitation, is a possible city. Solitude, hotels, aging, love, hormones, alcohol, illness – these drifting experiences open it a little. Sometimes prolonged reading holds it ajar. Another's style of consciousness inflects one's own; an odd syntactic manner, a texture of embellishment, pause. A new mode of rest. I can feel physiologically haunted by a style. It's why I read ideally, for the structured liberation from the personal, yet the impersonal inflection can persist outside the text, beyond the passion of readerly empathy, a most satisfying transgression that arrives only inadvertently, never by force of intention. As if seized by a fateful kinship, against all the odds of sociology, the reader psychically assumes the cadence of the text. She sheds herself. This description tends towards a psychological interpretation of linguistics, but the experience is also spatial. I used to drive home from my lover's apartment at 2 a.m., 3 a.m. This was Vancouver in 1995. A zone of light-industrial neglect separated our two neighbourhoods. Between them the stretched-out city felt abandoned. My residual excitement and relaxation would extend outwards from my body and the speeding car, towards the dilapidated warehouses, the shut storefronts, the distant container yards, the dark exercise stu ~ Lisa Robertson

The speeding toy cars produce in the viewer the stress of living in a dynamic, active and bustling 21st-century city, ~ Chris Burden

And I feel faster than the speeding light. ~ Madonna Ciccone

Heroes and heroines OR ... Your lead character doesn't have to leap tall buildings in a single bound, and he doesn't have to stop speeding bullets with his bare hands, but he darn well better know the difference between right and wrong, and he better be kind to animals, and it sure wouldn't hurt any if he brushed his teeth regularly"
Dean Koontz in "How To Write Best Selling Fiction ~ Dean Koontz

Back in 1998, the days were so much more spacious. When she woke up in the morning, the day rolled out in front of her like a long hallway for her to meander down, free to linger over the best parts. Days were so stingy now. Mean slivers of time. They flew by like speeding cars. Whoosh! When she was pulling back the blankets to hop into bed each night, it felt as if only seconds ago she'd been throwing them off to get up. ~ Liane Moriarty

Prabhakar was waiting for me at the bus station, smiling happily through the rain. He led me through the people gathered at the bus station, past shops selling cheap household items and eating places where pakoras were being fried in bubbling oil. The brands and consumerism of urban India had disappeared, and although I felt an acute sense of displacement, I was oddly comforted by the rough utilitarianism of the place, which reminded me of the India I had grown up in.

There were no cafes where I could hide my loneliness behind a cup of coffee and an open laptop, no shopping aisles where I could wander, picking out items that momentarily created an image of a better life. There was no escape here except through human relationships, and for that I was utterly dependent on Prabhakar speeding through the rain on his motorcycle. ~ Siddhartha Deb

About five miles back I had a brush with the CHP. Not stopped or pulled over: nothing routine. I always drive properly. A bit fast, perhaps, but always with consummate skill and a natural feel for the road that even cops recognize. No cop was ever born who isn't a sucker for a finely-executed hi-speed Controlled Drift all the way around one of those cloverleaf freeway interchanges.

Few people understand the psychology of dealing with a highway traffic cop. Your normal speeder will panic and immediately pull over to the side when he sees the big red light behind him ... and then he will start apologizing, begging for mercy.

This is wrong. It arouses contempt in the cop-heart. The thing to do – when you're running along about 100 or so and you suddenly find a red-flashing CHP-tracker on your tail – what you want to do then is accelerate. Never pull over with the first siren-howl. Mash it down and make the bastard chase you at speeds up to 120 all the way to the next exit. He will follow. But he won't know what to make of your blinker-signal that says you're about to turn right.

This is to let him know you're looking for a proper place to pull off and talk ... keep signaling and hope for an off-ramp, one of those uphill side-loops with a sign saying "Max Speed 25" ... and the trick, at this point, is to suddenly leave the freeway and take him into the chute at no less than 100 miles an hour.

He will lock his brakes about the same time ~ Hunter S. Thompson

We don't need guns, we got dogs! ~ T.A. Uner

Happiness is a myth we seek,
If manifested surely irks;
Like river speeding to the plain,
On its arrival slows and murks.
For man is happy only in
His aspiration to the heights;
When he attains his goal, he cools
And longs for other distant flights. ~ Khalil Gibran

Mr. Marsham was born (in 1822) into a world that was still essentially medieval - a place of candlelight, medicinal leeches, travel at walking pace, news from afar that was always weeks or months old - and lived to see the introduction of one marvel after another: steamships and speeding trains, telegraphy, photography, anesthesia, indoor plumbing, gas lighting, antisepsis in medicine, refrigeration, telephones, electric lights, recorded music, cars and planes, skyscrapers, motion pictures, radio, and literally tens of thousands of tiny things more, from mass-produced bars of soap to push-along lawn mowers. ~ Bill Bryson

In spite of all our speeding it's still the style to be late. ~ Kin Hubbard

So, of course Rose decided this would be a good time to discuss such matters. "I would also like to know if you know ways to prevent pregnancy."
He choked on a grape. She lurched toward him, but he coughed and spat the villainous fruit on the grass. He wiped at his watery eyes with the back of his hand as he turned his face to her once more. "That will teach me not to chew sufficiently."
Rose smiled shakily, her heart skipping. "You scared me." What if he had choked to death right in front of her?
She couldn't even begin to contemplate life without him.
"You stunned me. That's not exactly something you bring up out of the blue." His eyes twinkled. "Was it the mention of your puppy? Are you frightened of having a litter?"
When he looked at her like that-like they were friends and so much more-it made her insides feel like leaves blowing in the wind. Her gaze slid to her lap. "I would like us to have some time together before we have children."
Some of the tenderness drained from his expression. "I should have taken precautions last night. I'm sorry. I didn't think of children, only…"
"Only what?" If it made his eyes warm like that, she wanted to know what he'd been thinking.
His gaze locked with hers, so sharp and hot. "I thought only of how it felt to be naked inside you."
A hard throb pulsed low and deep inside her, bringing sexual awareness speeding to the surface. It had been different without the "French Letter." It had been b ~ Kathryn Smith

My driving record is not exemplary, but I have never had a speeding ticket over 100 m.p.h. I can say that unequivocally. ~ Carl Hiaasen

The train we had so confidently boarded had been speeding at almost 100 miles an hour and it had derailed. Someone, I can't remember who, showed me a newspaper photograph of the carriage we had been sitting in tilted on its side on a station platform next to a large notice that said Welcome to Potters Bar. ~ Nina Bawden

When tragedy hits close to home, like your neighbor's house, it really makes you stop and think. And while you're thinking, I'll be speeding off in the getaway car. ~ Jarod Kintz

Men don't know when to stop, she's told me over and over. You
have to cut them off or they'll eat 'til their bellies ache - just like a
baby or Mr. Davis's dog.
I figure all this sweet, cutesy stuff works about the same as
dessert - except if you don't cut them off from the cutesy stuff
you end up with a whole different kind of tummy ache. At any rate,
I'm pretty sure Logan Kilgore doesn't know when to quit. Case
in point, Barney Fife and the speeding ticket debacle. ~ Elizabeth Nicole

Floyd sometimes wondered if the Newspad, and the fantastic technology behind it, was the last word in man's quest for perfect communications. Here he was, far out in space, speeding away from Earth at thousands of miles an hour, yet in a few milliseconds he could see the headlines of any newspaper he pleased. (That very word "newspaper," of course, was an anachronistic hangover into the age of electronics.) The text was updated automatically on every hour; even if one read only the English versions, one could spend an entire lifetime doing nothing but absorbing the everchanging flow of information from the news satellites. It was hard to imagine how the system could be improved or made more convenient. But sooner or later, Floyd guessed, it would pass away, to be replaced by something as unimaginable as the Newspad itself would have been to Caxton or Gutenberg. ~ Arthur C. Clarke

. . . [E]very single writer I met likened writing for television to one thing--laying track for an incoming speeding train. The story is the track and you gotta keep laying it down because of the train. That train is production. You keep writing, you keep laying track down, no matter what, because the train of production is coming toward you--no matter what. Every eight days, the crew needs to being to prepare a new episode--find locations, build sets, design costumes, find props, plan shots. And every eight days after that, the crew needs to film a new episode. Every eight days. Eight days to prep. Eight days to shoot. Eight days, eight days, eight days, eight days. Which means every eight days, that crew needs a brand-new script. And my job is to damn well provide them with one. Every. Eight. Days. That train of production is a'coming. Every eight days that crew on that soundstage better have something to shoot. Because the worst thing you can do is halt or derail production and cost the studio hundreds of thousands of dollars while everyone waits. That is how you go from being a TV writer to being a failed TV writer. ~ Shonda Rhimes