You know most of the food that Americans hold so dear - things like hamburgers and hot dogs - were road food, but even before they were road food, they were peasant food.
It has never been, and never will be easy work! But the road that is built in hope is more pleasant to the traveler than the road built in despair, even though they both lead to the same destination.
I'm an awful driver. I'm not going to lie about it. I'm not a good driver. I tried for a long time to pretend that I was. There's a lot of road rage and a lot of times it's directed at something I've done on the road.
I don't miss being on the road right now because the thing is, I was on the road for eight years, so I love pizza, but pizza every day for eight years is a different thing.
When all's said and done, all roads lead to the same end. So it's not so much which road you take, as how you take it.
If you are on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; and in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive man.
Frodo: I think we should get off the road [feels the Wraith's presence] Frodo: Get off the road! Quick!
Max: I got all I need here. Papagallo: You don't have a future. I could offer you that.
I do love the road, because for me, the road is very comfortable, and it's very much what I've always wanted to do. It's one of the most appealing things about comedy for me, so I do really have an affection for it.
If you stop every time a dog barks, your road will never end.
We cannot tell that we are constantly splitting into duplicate selves because our consciousness rides smoothly along only one path in the endlessly forking chains
Katherine screwed her nose up at the taste of the instant coffee. Grace laughed. "Trust me. You love this stuff. You can't start your day without it." "Well that is just depressing," Katherine murmured, chasing a pea around her plate with a plastic f...
Are you crazy? It's a common phrase, I know. But it means something particular to me: the tunnels, the security screens, the plastic forks, the shimmering, ever-shifting borderline that like all boundaries beckons and asks to be crossed. I do not wan...
It is quite amazing how hard the subconscious works when it is made to understand that this life is not a rehearsal, there is no safety net and no assurance of any final closure. It is also quite appalling to realize how catatonic the imagination can...
I know. I'm sorry." And the bizarre part is that I really am. I want to be good, to use the right fork and wear a pretty linen dress to breakfast. I want to be the girl in the pictures upstairs. But I can't be. That girl is dead.
Don't be polite. Bite in. Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that may run down your chin. It is ready and ripe now, whenever you are. You do not need a knife or fork or spoon. For there is no core or stem or rind or pit or seed or skin t...
I am forever engaged in a silent battle in my head over whether or not to lift the fork to my mouth, and when I talk myself into doing so, I taste only shame. I have an eating disorder.
It was my friend Frank, a writer in San Francisco, who finally set me straight. When asked about my new look he put down his fork and stared at me for a few moments. "A bow tie announces to the world you can no longer get an erection.
His name is 'Mr. Spock.' And the first view of him can be almost frightening - a face so heavy-lidded and satanic you might almost expect him to have a forked tail. Probably half Martian, he has a slightly reddish complexion and semi-pointed ears.
Hiss: How nobly King Richard's crown sit on your royal brow. Prince John: Doesn't it? King Richard? [wrings Hiss' neck] Prince John: I told you never to mention my brother's name! Hiss: A mere slip of the forked tongue, Sire.
Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,— For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and...
