Quotes About Bus

You know, on the bus, everyone used to read books. But then they were fiddling on their phones or those big phones, I don't know what they're called.

Then one day I have to run to catch a bus. I am so out of breath when I get there that I know in a flash all my preparations for the apocalypse are doomed. I will die early and ignobly.

I guess getting used to sleeping on the tour bus has been the hardest thing - that and settling for whatever food you can get on the road.

I was in Las Vegas when the Nogueira brothers first touched down in America. There was a bus - this is a true story. There was a bus that pulled up to a red light, and Little Nog tried to feed it a carrot while Big Nog was petting it. He thought it was a horse. This really happened.

I have been refused entrance on the buses because I would not pay my fare at the front and go around to the rear door to enter. That was the custom if the bus was crowded up to the point where the white passengers would start occupying.

I would ditch school if my CD was scratched up or I couldn't get batteries. I wasn't trying to get on the bus and not be listening to music.

When you travel on a bus with guys who love all kinds of music, you get exposed to some great stuff, man.

When I leave backstage, some of the fans ask if I'm a roadie, and I just tell them, 'No, I'm the bus driver.' And, of course, they believe it.

the bus timetable sites are all run by an inbred cabal of malicious gnomes. Who don't speak English. And who don't count very well either. Or tell time. And they certainly can't read maps.

See them in their golden hour, a flood of girls high on the ecstasy of the final bell, tumbling onto the city bus, all gawky limbs and Wonderbra cleavage, chewed nails picking at eruptive zits, lips nibbling and eyes scrunching in a doomed attempt not to cry. Girls with plaid skirts tugged unfathomably high above the knee, girls seizing the motion of the bus to throw themselves bodily into their objects of affection.

Just bought a vintage Pontiac GTO," he said. "Fine car. I put polished headers on it, big bore pipes. Goes like shit off a shiny shovel." I said nothing. "You like muscle cars?" "No," I said. "I like to take the bus." "That's not much fun." "OK, let me put it another way. I'm happy with the size of my penis. I don't need compensation." He

it was a coincidence. No point going over and over it. I was only in Margrave because of a crazy last-minute whim. If I'd taken a minute longer looking at the guy's map, the bus would have been past the cloverleaf and I'd have forgotten all about Margrave.

You might imagine that the magic stopped at the airport, and to a great extent it did. When we arrived back in London, the skies were overcast and heavy. The bus driver from the airport was morose and unkempt; the streets seemed run-down and dirty, the people sour-faced. But that, I suspect, is how coming home is for everyone; Parisians probably felt the same when they returned from somewhere else.

The energies of Lagos life- creative, malevolent, ambiguous- converge at the bus stops

don't feel like by purchasing a ticket or riding a bus [and having] to forfeit my constitutional rights and my protections and be subject to search or seizure.

Let's change the world, I want to say to her. I know you don't know me, but let's hijack this bus and go protest something. I don't even care what. I just feel like yelling. I just feel like caring about something.

His face searching the bus windows looked expectant, impatient, and a little anxious. It was a husband's face. Familiar, known, increasing beloved. Mary Ann, I reflected, had an awful lot to learn. And actually, I reflected, I wouldn't be in her shoes right now for all the flowers in Bermuda...having it all to learn again.

Touching the face of the wind, dark wings flex and ease. They read the wisps of clouds forming above them, the dark heaves of mountains below. Now the sudden bounce of a thermal, now the yank of a downdraft, The birds of my mind tilt and swing as I lie in the blue bus, until finally, their taut wings bank up against the wind and they streak out of my head, peeling off one by one, like canoes that have been pointing upstream, arcing back into the roll of the river.

It took a while to learn to eat healthy on road. It's really hard. Really, really hard. But on the bus, I can use the stovetop in the morning to make a veggie scramble. And have lots and lots and lots of coffee. I try to have protein for dinner so I have energy for the show.

Vinnie had court business, and then he couldn't fit the dancing bear in his car, so Lula and I picked him up in Mooner's bus.

Will you for God's sake get off that subject?" Julian said. When he got on a bus by himself, he made it a point to sit down beside a Negro, in reparation as it were for his mother's sins.

I remember I could do - I did Bart Simpson once on the bus. I did, like, a really good Bart Simpson voice on the bus, obviously before I hit puberty. And everybody went, 'Whoa, that sounds just like Bart Simpson.'

I cannot believe that I get a tour bus. I've been traveling in a van for 15 years. I used to look at people who were on buses and be like, 'Whoa, man, some day.'

Collin Boyd stepped off the Metro bus on his way to work, and across the street he saw himself strolling down the sidewalk. A stubborn but warm February rain was pouring hard across the concrete canyons of downtown. His foot