Quotes About Bus

I would often take this bus and go to a nearby village where I had hordes of animal friends. I was hardly around four or five years old then. The conductor was so used to seeing me hop on to the bus and get down at the same place, that he never asked any questions. The strangest part is, he never asked for a ticket either!

La soledad es un concepto anglosajón. En Ciudad de México, si eres el único pasajero en un autobús y alguien sube, no solo se sentará a tu lado sino que se recostará en ti. (Del cuento Triste idiota)

The pull of lingering dreams, the strong, bitter tasteof morning coffee, the ticking clock, and horn of awaiting busform a powerful combination to kick-start the day

and it made his heart shake to hear these things in the street or bus or dime store, the uninventable poetry, inside the pain, of what people say.

swaying and sleepy as I sailed home on the bus, melting with sorrow and loveliness, a starry ache that lifted me up above the windswept city like a kite: my head in the rainclouds, my heart in the sky.

On she prattled, friendly as a parrot. But my loyalties were elsewhere. And the flavour of Pippa's kiss - bittersweet and strange - stayed with me all the way back uptown, swaying and sleepy as I sailed home on the bus, melting with sorrow and loveliness, a starry ache that lifted me up above the windswept city like a kite: my head in the rainclouds, my heart in the sky.

Museums suck," said Billy. The bus rattled along between tan fields. "Right?" said Charlie. "History," said Higgins. "Shit like that.

The bus had a name too. Elaborately painted letters across the back declared it to be "Old but Sexy." It occurred to me that as I slipped inexorably into middle age, such a title might be the best I myself could hope for.

Such afternoons the buses are crowded into line like elephants in a circusparade. Morningside Heights to Washington Square, Penn Station to Grant's Tomb. Parlorsnakes and flappers joggle hugging downtown uptown, hug joggling gray square after gray square, until they see the new moon giggling over Weehawken and feel the gusty wind of a dead Sunday blowing dust in their faces, dust of a typsy twilight.

They're past one watering hole, Kettle of Fish, and close to the Stonewall Inn, when a bus comes to a stop near the Waverly Place Station

Speeding along in that bus was like hurtling into the abyss. By the time we had left the swamps and reached those rolling hills near Baton Rouge, I was getting afraid that some rural rednecks might toss bombs at the bus. They love to attack vehicles, which are a symbol of progress, I guess.

Anyone over the age of thirty catching a bus can consider himself a failure.

No, the truth about love is this: if they'd missed the bus they would now be saying the same things about a person they met five minutes later on the Prom; their love was an accident; their lover just a nobody, gift-wrapped by their own imagination. There was nothing uncanny about it. They should have kept the drawbridge to their hearts closed; kept the moat free from weed.

THE GOVERNOR'S CAMPAIGN PARTY was in another interstate motel, less than a block away. The campaign bus was idling in the parking lot, belching out diesel exhaust, and a group of underlings was loading luggage and office equipment onto it. Lucas found Alice Green getting a cup of coffee in the front lobby.

There are probably others; my source could only track these." "And you trust this source." "I trust that he appreciates having his gambling debts paid off. And that he knows if he crosses me, I'll push him in front of a fucking bus. So, yes.

You guys are staring at me like I'm nuts, but you're special- they have that mobile Fox Channel transmitter, on that bus that uses that satellite info and dodges the demons. They have that show The Clans and it's pure demonphile stuff.

Even Juan laughed then. Everyone laughed. And suddenly the bus was not full of strangers. Some chemical association was formed. Norma laughed hysterically. All the tension of the morning came out in her laughter.

next thing is opinions. You and me is always busting out with opinions. Hell Susy, we ain't got no opinions. We just say stuff we heard or seen in the movies. We're scared we'll miss something, like running for the bus. That's the second rule: lay off opinions because you really ain't got any.

There's nothing else in this world the color of a school bus. They call it yellow but it's not quite yellow, and it's not orange either. I'd say it's something somewhere in between margarine and Velveeta. It's not a natural color. Then again I guess if we wanted kids to grow up natural we wouldn't put them on a school bus in the first place.

One of the fears of having too much work is not having time to observe. And once you get recognised, there is nowhere for you to look any more. You can't sit on a night bus and watch it all happen.

I'm physically completely mal-coordinated. My best friend used to make me run for the bus just to give herself a quick, cheap laugh because I definitely don't have that sophisticated cool thing down.

I'd begun to think of the Immortality Bus as the Entropy Bus, and of ourselves as trundling across Texas in a great mobile metaphor for the inevitable decline of all things, the disintegration of all systems over time.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't driving around on a bus and having a campfire kind of adding to the environment problem?

It was only when I finished the course and left my graduation diploma on the bus that I realised I'd become an actor.