Quotes About Fast car

Don't you think it would be great to do a bunch of Nicorette commercials? Just, like, me in the desert, kind of Marlboro Man-style, driving a fast car, pulling over, looking at the sunset. Dissolving in ecstasy. Can't you see it? Me blowing huge Nicorette bubbles.

Man, that woman was quick when she wanted to be. But put her behind the wheel of a Buick.

See, what you're meant to do when you have a mid-life crisis is buy a fast car, aren't you? Well, I've always had fast cars. It's not that. It's the fear that you're past your best. It's the fear that the stuff you've done in the past is your best work.

On top of the dashboard are three dials in a raised binnacle. They tell you nothing you need to know but they look good. They look sporty. They tell you that you are a man in a hurry, but here's hoping you aren't, because this is not a fast car.

I bought a midnight blue Porsch with a whale tail when I was winning big one time in L.A. That car was fast, fast, fast!

I did all kinds of reckless things that look great if you're driving a fast car. I pulled away form traffic lights with a roar, leaving the other drivers staring bitterly after me - that was called burning them up said Daniel. I drove out in front of other cars - Daniel said that was called cutting them up and while we were stuck in a traffic jam, I winked and smiled at attractive men in other cars - Daniel said that was called acting like a brazen trollop.

It turns out having a fast car is an excellent hobby when you're a workaholic because even when you don't have any free time, you can always drive to work.

I have a Volvo S60R and it's a pretty fast car, the R says it all.

You're going to need plenty of legal advice before this thing is over. And my first advice is that you should rent a very fast car with no top and get the hell out of L.A. for at least forty-eight hours. This blows my weekend, because naturally I'll have to go with you—and we'll have to arm ourselves.

I have a Mercedes, which is a pretty fast car. It's not a Lamborghini.

I am adrenaline slammed into inertia: a fast car stuck in traffic.

The road out of London on the north-east is one of the less pleasant ways of finding the open country. For one thing, it is infested with miles of tramway, crawling, interminable, blocking the traffic, maddening to the man at the wheel of a fast car—especially maddening to the man in a hurry at the wheel of a fast car.

I have a Volvo S60R and its a pretty fast car, the R says it all.

You got a fast car But is it fast enough so we can fly away We gotta make a decision We leave tonight or live and die this way.