Hot Rods Quotes

#1. Reading wasn't an attempt to educate myself. It was my chief escape from a world that, although gorgeous in landscape and rich with mountain culture, didn't provide what I needed - the promise of adventure, a life beyond the perimeter of hills. I often fantasized that I'd been adopted and had mysterious powers such as flying or teleportation. Books offered the promise of a world in which misfits like me could flourish. Within the pages of a novel, I was unafraid: of my father, of dogs, snakes, and the bully across the creek; of older boys who drove hot rods close enough to make me jump in the ditch; of armed men parked near the bootlegger. #Quote by Chris Offutt

#2. I've always loved old hot rods. I have four or five of them at home that I work on when I'm not working out. #Quote by Buddy Rice

#3. This is a great opportunity for gear heads to celebrate the holiday, show off their hot rods and visit the aquarium. #Quote by Dick Miller

#4. Street rods have a Chevy in front and a can of wax in the back; Hot Rods have a flathead in front and a box of tools in the back. #Quote by Fred Offenhauser

#5. All of a sudden America wasn't about hamburgers and hot rods anymore. It was about the Mayflower and Plymouth Rock. It was about something that had happened for two minutes four hundred years ago, instead of everything that had happened since. Instead of everything that was happening now! #Quote by Jeffrey Eugenides

#6. He snorted. "They were probably scared."
"Scared!" For some reason, that hurt, just a little. She felt her lower lip wobble. "I'm not that bad, am I?"
"Worse," he said cheerfully. "You're hell on wheels. You're just lucky I like hot rods #Quote by Linda Howard

#7. I was an infinitely hot and dense dot. #Quote by Mark Leyner

#8. I have decided that the hot, burning, inescapable pain is the worst. This pain comes when you finally begin to relax, you finally breathe, thinking that some issue is yesterday's problem, when in fact it's today's problem, tomorrow's problem, and the problem of every day after that. This pain comes when you pour everything into something, into someone, and they betray you so completely - so seemingly on a whim - that the pain crushes you and you feel as if you're barely breathing, barely holding on to that small fraction of whatever is left inside of you begging you to go on, to not give up.
-Tessa #Quote by Anna Todd

#9. You can gesture at the transnational problem of Islamist terrorism all you like, but it's just hot air unless you invest in proper security on the ground in your own country, with the right safeguards to civil liberties. #Quote by Giles Foden

#10. I lean in this time, and she doesn't turn away. It's cold, and our lips are dry, noses a little wet, foreheads sweaty beneath wool hats. I can't touch her face, even though I want to, because I'm wearing gloves. But God, when her lips come apart, everything turns warm and her sugar sweet breath is in my mouth, and I probably taste like hot dogs but I don't care. She kisses like a sweet devouring, and I don't know where to touch her because I want all of her. I want to touch her knees and hips and her stomach and her back and her everything, but we're encased in all these clothes, so we're just two marshmallows bumping against each other, and she smiles at me while still kissing because she knows how ridiculous it is, too. #Quote by John Green

#11. No, he didn't view the scar as shameful, though he did in its getting. For he'd not received it in battle. He'd received it the last time he'd ever acted foolishly over a woman.
Oddly poetic that the very woman who brought out that foolish side again was turned off by the scar. As if the scar and tattoo were a shield. A shield protecting him forevermore from heartache. #Quote by Angela Quarles

#12. If I did things for the money, I'd have done adverts in the 1980s, when I was hot enough to be offered them, and 'Police Academy 6,' which I was asked to write. #Quote by Ben Elton

#13. He would return in half an hour - or in less. He walked away and I sat there alone, conscious, on the dark dismantled simplified scene, in the deep silence that rests on American towns during the hot season - there was now and then a far cry or a plash in the water, and at intervals the tinkle of the bells of the horse-cars on the long bridge, slow in the suffocating night - of the strange influence, half-sweet, half-sad, that abides in houses uninhabited or about to become so, in places muffled and bereaved, where the unheeded sofas and patient belittered tables seem (like the disconcerted dogs, to whom everything is alike sinister) to recognise the eve of a journey. #Quote by Henry James

#14. I'm here to tell you the coffee was hot, the orange juice was cold, New York's still there and Reagan National is back. #Quote by Jim Gilmore

#15. As for the unexplainable attraction, I've felt it too. But it's not in an 'oh my Goddess she's totally hot and I have to have her' way. It's more like an 'I can't believe my heart feels like its breaking because I made her sad' kind of way." ~ Kaleb #Quote by Jennifer Hines

#16. A stone, a leaf, an unfound door; a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.
Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.
Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?
O waste of lost, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this weary, unbright cinder, lost! Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again. #Quote by Thomas Wolfe

#17. The city was a real city, shifty and sexual. I was lightly jostled by small herds of flushed young sailors looking for action on Forty-Second Street, with it rows of x-rated movie houses, brassy women, glittering souvenir shops, and hot-dog vendors. I wandered through Kino parlors and peered through the windows of the magnificent sprawling Grant's Raw Bar filled with men in black coats scooping up piles of fresh oysters. The skyscrapers were beautiful. They did not seem like mere corporate shells. They were monuments to the arrogant yet philanthropic spirit of America. The character of each quadrant was invigorating and one felt the flux of its history. The old world and the emerging one served up in the brick and mortar of the artisan and the architects. I walked for hours from park to park. In Washington Square, one could still feel the characters of Henry James and the presence of the author himself … This open atmosphere was something I had not experienced, simple freedom that did not seem oppressive to anyone. #Quote by Patti Smith

#18. Out of the silver heat mirage he ran. The sky burned, and under him the paving was a black mirror reflecting sun-fire. Sweat sprayed his skin with each foot strike so that he ran in a hot mist of his own creation. With each slap on the softened asphalt, his soles absorbed heat that rose through his arches and ankles and the stems of his shins. It was a carnival of pain, but he loved each stride because running distilled him to his essence and the heat hastened this distillation. #Quote by James Tabor

#19. She should pull away, even though she had begged for it with her smart mouth. She should punish him for every crime he'd perpetrated. For being too good-looking, too sexy, too everything. But the kiss was like him - just too damn good. Warm and brutal, providing answers to questions she never knew she had. He teased with his tongue along the seam of her mouth, seeking that last nudge of acceptance as if it was his God-given right.
She parted her lips, and like a predator hinged on her threshold, he took. #Quote by Kate Meader

#20. You know Pastor, baking is a real art. Especially bread baking. There is something so divine about it. It is a pure alchemy. And all alchemical elements are there: flour that comes from the earth and represents material, water that you mix with flour to make the dough, air released by the yeast fermentation that makes dough rise, fire that bakes the bread. It is fantastic. And the aroma of hot bread released during baking is the most pleasant fragrance for our senses. Think about that for a moment, Pastor. Any food aroma that we like, no matter how much we like it, gets overwhelming after a while, and we open the kitchen windows and close kitchen doors so the smell doesn't get into the living room. Any smell, but the smell of freshly baked bread. Did you ever hear anybody complain about the smell of baked bread? Nobody, Pastor! Nobody. You hear people complaining about their neighbors frying fish, roasting pork, barbecuing sausages, but nobody ever complains about the smell of baked bread. And you know why? Because it is divine. It is magic – the magic of the craft. #Quote by Stevan V. Nikolic

#21. You're like a cold beer, darling, on a long hot summer night. #Quote by Rod Stewart

#22. So Lex was psyched. She made her way into the restaurant, Lights Out, and spotted Driggs toward the back. He was once again wearing Uncle Mort's ill-fitting old suit, and once again, he looked ridiculous.
But still hot. Driggs could wear a tap-dancing walrus costume and still look hot.
He did a spit-take as she approached. "Holy shitballs," he said, scanning her up and down. "You look gorgeous."
Lex laughed. "Thanks."
"You're wearing a dress," he informed her.
"And yet I haven't burst into flames. I'm just as surprised as you are."
"Well, warn me next time so my heart doesn't explode." He got up to pull out her chair.
She snickered. "Pretending to be a gentleman, are we?"
"Gotta try at least once a year, or I'll lose my license." He ran a hand up her leg and grinned. "Nice gams."
She leaned in to kiss him, sniffing at the tart scent of his aftershave. "Nice face. #Quote by Gina Damico

#23. He had a thwarting day. The heath and moor were crisscrossed with little tracks, dusty and twisting between the heather and bracken and the little juniper trees with their clinging roots. There was not one way but many, all athwart each other like the cracks on a crazy jug, and he followed first one and then the other, choosing the straightest and stoniest and finding himself always under the hot-sun at another crossing just like the one he had just left. After a time he decided to got with the sun behind him always
at least this led to consistency of proceeding
though it must be told that when he decided this he had only the haziest idea, dear readers, of where the sun had been at the beginning of the venture. So it often is in this life. We become consistent and orderly too late, on insufficient grounds, and perhaps in the wrong direction.
Possession #Quote by A.S. Byatt

#24. Few people make sound or sustainable decisions in an atmosphere of chaos. The more serious the situation, usually accompanied by a deadline, the more likely everyone will get excited and bounce around like water on a hot skillet. At those times I try to establish a calm zone but retain a sense of urgency. Calmness protects order, ensures that we consider all the possibilities, restores order when it breaks down, and keeps people from shouting over each other. You are in a storm. The captain must steady the ship, watch all the gauges, listen to all the department heads, and steer through it. If the leader loses his head, confidence in him will be lost and the glue that holds the team together will start to give way. So assess the situation, move fast, be decisive, but remain calm and never let them see you sweat. #Quote by Colin Powell

#25. You're driving me crazy." His ragged words were barely louder than a whisper but wicked hot against her neck.
And he didn't sound cocky or so sure of himself now. He sounded completely at her mercy.
Like he might just die if she stopped. #Quote by Amy Andrews

#26. Got you all hot and bothered, did I?"

He sneered. "Exactly as you intended."

"Well, in a few hours, we can fuck until we're both limp and exhausted," she promised, giving him an exaggerated leer.

Kent wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her barely clothed body back against him. "I'm not waiting for a few hours," he countered huskily, his mouth against the side of her throat and the vibrations making her shiver.

She shook her head, although she'd felt tingling pleasure between her legs at his words. "You'll have to. I'm all fixed up and pretty now and you're not going to get me sweaty and mess up my makeup before everyone arrives."

His other arm went around her too and his hands moved up to cup her breasts over the lace of her bra. Then his pelvis pushed into the top of her ass and she felt the hard evidence of his arousal. "I won't mess up your makeup. #Quote by Zannie Adams

#27. Check her out. She‟s fuckin‟ hot."
"Wedding band," I say.
"She sings in one?"
"No, jackass. She's wearing one. #Quote by Caprice Crane

#28. There was absolutely nothing sexier than a hot bookworm. #Quote by Nash Summers

#29. I sighed. "Would it be too much to ask that Asgard be peaceful? Made up of big, fluffy clouds, serenity, and lots of hot yoga? #Quote by Amanda Carlson

#30. Each hand held a shoe and a handful of skirt, the hem of her pale blue polonaise gown raised above the knee, exposing satin ribbons which held up her white stockings. The ribbons were a bold cerise, like her lips, which were pulled wide in a girlish grin - inviting and ripe with unspent kisses - a hot-sweet ring of nubile, innocent fire. High cheeks, pink with natural rouge, gave #Quote by Samantha Kaye

#31. A little later, strolling about the town, I, stopped into a shop near the museum, where they sold souvenirs and post-cards. I looked over the cards leisurely; the ones I liked best were soiled and wrinkled. The man, who spoke French fluently, offered to make the cards presentable. He asked me to wait a few minutes while he ran over to the house and cleaned and ironed them. He said he would make them look like new. I was so dumbfounded that before I could say anything he had disappeared, leaving me in charge of the shop. After a few minutes his wife came in. I thought she looked strange for a Greek woman. After a few words had passed I realized that she was French and she, when she learned that I hailed from Paris, was overjoyed to speak with me. We got along beautifully until she began talking about Greece. She hated Crete, she said. It was too dry, too dusty, too hot, too bare. She missed the beautiful trees of Normandy, the gardens with the high walls, the orchards, and so on. Didn't I agree with her? I said NO, flatly. "Monsieur!" she said, rising up in her pride and dignity, as if I had slapped her in the face.

"I don't miss anything," I said, pressing the point home. "I think this is marvellous. I don't like your gardens with their high walls, I don't like your pretty little orchards and your well-cultivated-fields. I like this …" and I pointed outdobrs to the dusty road on which a sorely-laden donkey was plodding along dejectedly. "But it's not civilized," sh #Quote by Henry Miller

#32. I know you are afraid, mon amour," he whispered softly, his hands sliding up her rib cage to her breasts. "But I am no longer a beast. You leashed the demon. There is only me, a man who very much wants to make love to his lifemate." She felt his breath against her nipple. "Let me show you how it is supposed to be. Beautiful. Such pleasure.I can bring you so much pleasure,ma petite." His mouth closed over her breast, hot and moist. The sound of his voice was memerizing, enticing. She could get caught up forever in the mere sound of it. There was no thought in his mind for his own burning body, his own urgent demands; he wanted to show her the beauty and pleasure of true mating.
Flames raced through her blood and licked down her skin at the intensity of the eroticism, the craving his mouth at her breast created. She moaned, low and soft, the note brushing at his soul like the flutter of butterfly wings. Her hands slid over his back, tracing each defined muscle with her fingertips, commiting him to memory. Tears filled her eyes. How could a man be so sensual, so perfect? He was stealing her will as easily as he was stealing her body.
"Want me, Savannah," he whispered softly. "Want me the way I want you. #Quote by Christine Feehan

#33. She preferred coffee as hot and strong as a devil at midnight #Quote by Haruki Murakami

#34. Arizona changes its state motto to Damn, it's hot. #Quote by Greg Proops

#35. I nod"Maybe.But I'm pretty sure mom won't consent to a field trip across the country with my hot boyfriend.Especially not back to Florida."I clamp my mouth shut so fast my teeth should be chipped. He grins."You think I'm hot?"
"my mom thinks you are." Except, mom's not the one blushing right now. #Quote by Anna Banks

#36. ..I'm not, like you. I'm straight."
"So is spaghetti until it gets hot. #Quote by Nicola Haken

#37. I put my hand next to his shoulder on the door frame, not touching, but real close. Look, Blondie. I'm not asking you to bottom, just to fucking navigate. #Quote by Rie Warren

#38. Kitchens were different then, too - not only what came out of them, but their smells and sounds. A hot pie cooling smells different from a frozen pie thawing. #Quote by Peg Bracken

#39. If you're automatically sure that you know what reality is, and you are operating on your default setting, then you, like me, probably won't consider possibilities that aren't annoying and miserable. But if you really learn how to pay attention, then you will know there are other options. It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down. Not that that mystical stuff is necessarily true. The only thing that's capital-T True is that you get to decide how you're gonna try to see it. #Quote by David Foster Wallace

#40. Hot, dry katabatic winds, like the south foehn in Europe, the sharav in the Middle East, and the Santa Ana of Southern California, are all believed to have a decided effect on human behavior and are associated with such health problems as migraines, depression, lethargy, and moodiness. Some scientists say that this is a myth. #Quote by Tim Cahill

#41. Besides" - Jasper smiled, teeth pearly white and predatory - "it'll be a cold day in hell when I complain about having a hot piece like you in my bed. #Quote by Melissa Grey

#42. Ornate language tended to unsettle him. Passages from nineteenth-century novels might glow like hot coals or squirm like heaps of snakes. In fact, he tried not to read anything written before the First World War. Hemingway made a good cutoff point. Hemingway's sentences were a nice deep blue, and they mostly held still, like stalks of wheat on a windless day.(p18) #Quote by Harry Dolan

#43. I love travel because you may be uncomfortable, hungry, hot and sweaty, cold and shivering ... but damn it, you will never be bored. #Quote by Tony Wheeler

#44. Day grabbed God's hand off his cock and licked the calloused palm from wrist to fingertips before guiding it back to his dick. Holy fuck that was hot. #Quote by A.E. Via

#45. Love, he does not know this word, and worse, he does not know that feeling in his existence. ~Emily #Quote by Pet Torres

#46. Annie clouded up. For a second, he thought she was going to erupt, and flinched. She saw that...and got control of herself with an visible effort. She took three deep breaths, each longer than the last, and her features became serene.
All at once it seemed totally clear to Mike that she was right and he was nuts - that his ingenius theory was nonsense, childish, fantasty bullshit. His conviction evaporated, and he was ashamed. He felt his cheeks grow hot, groped for words with which to backtrack -
"I have to admit I have no better explanation for the the facts," Annie said slowly.
Again, Mike did an emotional instant 180. "Holy shit -"
She held up a hand. "I am going to think now. Very hard, for a long time. You will be as quiet as possible while I do." She got up from the computer, went to the bed, and lay down. "Think yourself, or read, or play games with the headphones on, or go Topside if you like." She clasped her hands on her belly, closed her eyes and appeared to go to sleep #Quote by Spider Robinson