Quotes About Petrol

Touring can be tough; the crew and I travel everywhere by a big pink bus, and live in petrol stations.

In Australia, the dawn is an arsonist who pours petrol along the horizon, throws a match on it and watches it burn.

Driving a car is no longer about zooming down clear lanes, the joy and freedom of the road flowing through your hair like a fine westerly breeze. It's about solid traffic, petrol fumes, spy cameras, eco-guilt, and simultaneous social media.

aire olía a gasolina. Mendenhall llegó junto a

I like the light that comes off metal shutters at siesta time in the summer, having a break from driving in the shops at motorway services, the odour of petrol at petrol stations, rolling down little slopes. I hate it when you tread in a puddle and the water soaks your socks.

Our great adventure ran out of petrol and stopped on this farm.

Santa was taking an evening walk, when it started to rain. To his relief, a car coming slowly towards him stopped next to where he was standing. Santa opened its door and jumped in. Once inside, he realised that there was no one else in the car. Thinking the car to be haunted, Santa started screaming. Then he heard Banta's voice, 'Oye Santa, what are you shouting for? Instead of sitting inside, come out and help me to push the car. I have run out of petrol.

It would indeed be a tragedy if the history of the human race proved to be nothing more than the story of an ape playing with a box of matches on a petrol dump.

Well. I don't see passion as . . . as petrol. Something that runs out. I see it as more like, I don't know, something you lose. Like keys." He picks up the pen he's using to do the crossword and waves it around. "Or this biro." "Keys get found. Biros don't. So it's important for me to know which it is." Tom doesn't say anything. "Keys? Or a biro?" Tom doesn't say anything. Louise is getting angry.

I worked in a petrol station on the A1 one summer. I enjoyed it except when I was on latrine duty.

I thought about my [Punjabi] family. The only nakshatram we think about is the division of petrol pumps when we have to see the girl.

Once electricity and petrol and facilities and food stop, society stops. It's crazy.

The conscientious arsonist doesn't just set the building on fire; first he fills the fire extinguishers with petrol.

Paris had its sweetest smell, the smell of chestnut trees in bloom and of petrol with a few grains of dust that crack under your teeth like pepper. In the darknes the danger seemed to grow. You could smell the suffering in the air, in the silence. Everyone looked at their house and thought, "Tomorrow it will be in ruins, tomorrow I'l have nothing left.