Quotes About Traffic

I absolutely hate cyclists. If they use the roads for free and they don't have to pay any tax, they must obey the rules.

It's bad enough sitting in a car, never mind driving it.

Aside from the financial burden, people who endure long drives tend to experience higher blood pressure and more headaches than those with short commutes. They get frustrated more easily and tend to be grumpier when they get to their destination.

Globally, traffic injuries are the greatest killer of ten- to twenty-four-year-olds.* A rational actor would be terrified of suburban roads. A rational policy maker would wage war, not on other nations, but on traffic deaths.

the obvious solution to congestion—building more roads—simply produces more traffic, creating a hedonic treadmill of construction and frustration.

Another big mistake came with well-meaning efforts to deal with salient dangers such as house fires. Before World War II, the typical residential street in the United States and Canada was only twenty-eight feet wide. If cars were parked on either side, two drivers approaching each other in the middle could barely pass.

did you often stagger into the middle of busy intersections with your gummy eyes and make comical, drunken attempts to direct traffic?

Well, it was right in there where I lost him. That traffic circle is where he tore his britches. I never saw him after that. He has no chin, you know." "You told me that." "Captain Hughes of the Rangers used to say that if they ever hanged old Ski they would have to put the rope under his nose.

At the hairdresser's a girl leaps out of a chair, Her blond hair bouncing off her bare shoulders As she runs out the door in her high heels. "I must be off," says the handsome boy to his grandmother. His bicycle is where he left it. He rides it casually through the heavy traffic His white shirttails fluttering behind him Long after everyone else has come to a sudden stop.

if there's one thing other than traffic in Seattle, it's coffee. You can't swing a dead squirrel without hitting a Starbucks, or failing that particular evil empire, an indie establishment.

If all the cars in the United States were placed end to end, it would probably be Labor Day Weekend.

The only way to solve the Traffic problems of this Country is to pass a law that only paid-for Cars are allowed to use the Highways. That would make traffic so scarce we could use our Boulevards for Children's play grounds.

I'm stuck in traffic on the highway to hell.

The trouble with traffic engineers is that when there's a problem with a road, they always try to add something. To my mind, it's much better to remove things.

Most sites need to prevent breadth — many many pages that are organized cohesively. A site that presents a single webpage is unlikely to present sufficient depth of content to justify extensive SEO." The SCO trick is to draw traffic with desirable content, and to 'seduce' the traffic into portions of the site that may not directly have anything to do with the content — this is the ultimate goal of the SEO campaign.

It wasn't a lack of attraction to her husband that caused her problems. It was life. It was traffic. It was the Miami Dade Water and Sewer bills, it was trying to get ahead, and trying to be on time. Petty little thing, but zillions of them fused together.

Making a left turn in L.A. is one of the harder things you're going to learn in life.

If the law imposed the death penalty for parking tickets, we'd not only have fewer parking tickets, we'd also have much less driving.

Because some dipshit left his car double-parked with the engine running while he ran into a building to do some dipshit errand

To give my characters a real, or at least a convincing, life demanded more space. Did giving them a domestic dimension mean pressing the pause button in order to relate the dull routines of mortgages, electric bills, children's ailments and traffic jams? No, that is not the way to treat your readers unless you just don't care about them; and in that case you should be writing literary novels.

carving our way south through the chaos of midtown Manhattan dinner traffic. Unhealthy food and a healthy dose of road rage, I thought with an impressed nod. My new partner was getting this New York cop thing down pretty fast. The calm from my shower and my visit with the kids lasted less than a New York minute as I scanned the pages of her notes. The latest victim was the youngest yet: a seventeen-year-old high school student named Mary Beth Haas.

Is there an alternative to blogging? There is. Build relationships with four or five highly-trafficked blogs.

Doing anything for the holidays? Joe asked me. We were stopped at a traffic light that was generally acknowledged to be the slowest traffic light in Merrick. Whole days would pass and this traffic light would stay red. Kingdoms rose and fell, presidential administrations came and went, and the light obstinately refused to change.

The average sendentary man of our time who is at all suggestible must emerge from this chapter believing that his chances of surviving a combination of instinct, complexes, reflexes, glands, sex, and present-day traffic conditions are about equal to those of a one-legged man trying to get out of a labyrinth.