Car Back Side Quotes & Sayings

My car was not gross; it was occupied, cluttered, cramped. It became an extension of my bedroom, and thus an extension of myself. I had two bumper stickers on the back: REPUBLICANS FOR VOLDEMORT and the symbol for the Equal Rights Campaign. On the back side windows were OBAMA '08 signs that my parents made me take down because they "dangerously blocked my sight lines." The trunk housed my guitar but was also the library, filled with textbooks and novels, the giant tattered copy of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare and all one hundred chapters of Harry Potter on tape. — Marina Keegan

Hard port!" She heard a man say from the backseat, of all places. Remy gasped, her startled eyes looked in the rearview mirror. Seeing a bearded man, she screamed, losing total control of the wheel. The other car came up fast and slammed into her right side, sending her into an uncontrolled spin. Her back pressed into the seat as the impact sent her head connecting with the driver's window. Remy thought she saw a white hand reaching for her, and then she didn't see anything at all. — Michael Phillip Cash

Priss tried to open her door, but it still didn't budge. "Unlock it."
Instead he pulled her around to face him. He started to blast her, but something funny happening. Instead of reading her the riot act, he stared into her eyes, then down at her mouth. His entire demeanor changed. He looked just as tense, but now for different, hotter reasons.
He still stared intently at her mouth when Priss heard the lock click open. She glanced down and saw that Trace had reached back for the door, all without breaking that disturbing, electrifying visual contact with her.
She met his gaze again, and softened. Damn, but resisting Trace wouldn't be easy, not if he kept looking at her like that. "You're coming in, too?"
"Yes." Suddenly, almost violently, he turned away from her and left the car. Still a gentleman, he strode around to her side and opened her door. "Let's get this night over with."
Well. That sounded insulting. — Lori Foster

We better get in the car before I back you right into your house and give in to my ungentlemanly side." Though her cheeks were red, her breath shallow, Charlotte said, "You have a gentlemanly side? — Nalini Singh

When you have a problem with an adult - say, for example, you have a friend who's always borrowing things and returning them late or broken or not at all - you probably don't think about how you can punish that person. You think about how to respectfully protect yourself. You don't say, "Now that you've given me back my jacket with a stain on it, and broken the side mirror off my car, I'm going to . . . slap you." That would be assault. Or ". . . lock you in your room for an hour." That would be imprisonment. Or ". . . take away your smart phone." That would be theft. You'd probably say something like, "I don't feel comfortable lending you clothes anymore. I get very upset when they come back damaged. And, I can't lend you my car, which I just got repaired. I need to have it in working condition. In fact, I'd appreciate some help with the repair bill! — Joanna Faber

Coach McConaughy grabbed the whistle swinging from a chain around his neck and blew it. "Seats,
team!" Coach considered teaching tenthgrade
biology a side assignment to his job as varsity basketball
coach, and we all knew it.
"It may not have occurred to you kids that sex is more than a fifteenminute
trip to the backseat of a car.
It's science. And what is science?"
"Boring," some kid in the back of the room called out.
"The only class I'm failing," said another. — Becca Fitzpatrick

As much as he loathed himself for it, he couldn't stop thinking about Abigail. If he hadn't met her, he might be married to someone else. Some nice woman who didn't throw dishes at him. He'd be asleep right now, lying on his side with her warm body snuggled up against his chest, and their children
yes, he was quite sure there would have been two or three of them
would be sound asleep in the next room dreaming of sugarplums or whatever kids dreamed about. If he hadn't met Abigail, he certainly wouldn't be stuffed like a slab of meat in the back of a car with his own executioners. — J.S. Bailey

Selling your house, giving away possessions, working multiple jobs for a period of time, going back to school and moving in with friends or relatives, sharing a car with your partner and riding your bike more, investing all your savings in a new venture, living on the other side of the world for a year - your friends may not understand, your co-workers may not get it, your extended family may think you've lost your mind - that's okay. Better to receive some odd looks and have a few people roll their eyes than spend your days wondering, What if I did that . . . ? Take that step. Make that leap. Try that new thing. If it helps clarify your ikigai, if it gets you up in the morning, if it's good for you and the world, do it. — Rob Bell

She was shaking. Her hands, her knees and everywhere in between. And kisses did not make her shake.And she didn't kiss men she didn't like. She didn't kiss men in uniforms who had a fetish for order and cleanliness.
She didn't yell at people, either, but right now the yelling was lower on her list of sins than the kissing.
"What did you ... I don't even ... I'm going to go."
She turned, her shoulders stiff, her heart hammering in her ears.
"If I'd known a kiss would have gotten rid of you, I would have kissed you the moment I saw your car sitting on the side of the road."
Oh. That. Did it.
She whirled back around, anger gaining traction in her again. "Well, sure, your kiss got rid of me. Congratulations. Now who's going to help you get rid of the hard-on it gave you? Your right hand? — Maisey Yates

What do you buy a woman to get back on her good side when you've made her really, really angry? Cake? Fudge?"
The wrinkles on the old man's face scrunched together as he frowned.
"How angry did you make her boy?"
"She set my car on fire. — Alanea Alder

She was still getting organized, trying to get the books she'd taken out to fit into the shelf under the stroller. She would shove a book in, and then something, a juice cup, a Binky, or one disturbing Barbie-doll head, would fall out the other side. She would shove that back in, and then something else would leak out the other side. Her stroller was like a poorly designed clown car.
I went over and helped. It was a good thing spatial relations were a strength of mine, because it required the geometry skills of Newton to get everything slotted into place. — Eileen Cook

We'll drive backwards
in what will become your new car
to the beach where we first slept side by side.
The green waves will go back into the ocean,
yellow and blue.
You'll pull up my underwear.
I'll button your shirt.
We'll dress and dress and dress.
Then we'll step into our footprints
and erase our trail. — Hiroshi Sugimoto And J Safran Foer

How'd it go?" I said, trying to sound indifferent. "He took it like a champ." She opened the back car door for Clay. He lifted his head and stood with obvious effort. Then he hopped down with care and pathetically climbed the deck steps to my side. I stared at him for a moment. "What'd they do to him?" Rachel shook her head and closed the door. "He wasn't acting like this when we left. I swear. I think he's hamming it up for you." She patted Clay's head with a laugh. He accepted the pat with a defeated grunt, stopped hobbling, and started to walk with his usual gait. I heaved a relieved sigh. He looked up at me and winked. I quickly checked to see if Rachel had noticed, but she had already walked away from us and into the house. I shook my head at him before we followed Rachel in. "So — Melissa Haag

I have your gun" I pulled the Ruger out of my bag and gave it to Ranger. He held the gun flat in his hand and looked at it. "It smells like orange blossoms."
"I washed it and sprayed it with air freshener"
"You washed it?"
"I wore rubber gloves and scrubbed it with my vegetable brush. It was.. icky"
He yanked open the driver's side door, pulled me out of the car, and kissed me. The kiss involved tongue, and a hand on my ass, and made my nipples tingle.
"I can always count on you to brighten my day" Ranger said.
Ranger drove off, and I got back into the Buick.
"That was hot," Lula said. "Imagine what he'd do if you washed his Glock
After Stephanie threw up on Rangers gun. — Janet Evanovich

Ten minutes out of the city I made Hawk stop the car and I threw up on the side of the road. When I got back in the car Hawk said, "You shot Leo to protect those whores."
I nodded.
"Had to be done," Hawk said.
"I know."
"You'll feel better in a while," Hawk said.
"Better than Leo," I said. — Robert B. Parker

She stuck to side streets, riding slowly, with care. The trip took a little under an hour, and Diane was feeling a pulsing pain in her calf by the time sh pulled up to the front of the pawnshop. There was a black sedan with tinted windows at the end of the lot--the windows cracked down enough for her to see two sunglassed agents of a vague yet menacing government agency. One of them raised her camera and tried to take a photo of Diane, but the camera flashed, only reflecting the car window back at the lens. The agent swore. Diane waved a cursory hello at them and walked into the store. — Joseph Fink

A Christian who has a hard time living by his or her faith while driving, for instance, could hang a symbol - a cross or a fish - on their rearview mirror to challenge them when their temper begins to flare. (That's certainly preferable to putting a Christian bumper sticker on the back of the car for all to see, and then driving like a son of perdition!) A pastor friend of mine uses a pond near his home as a symbol. As soon as he drives by that pond, he is reminded that he is going home and needs to prepare himself to focus on his wife and children, leaving the cares, worries, and concerns of the church on the north side of the pond. He can pick them back up the next morning when he passes the pond on his way to work. A symbol can be found to meet virtually every need in every situation. Men — Gary L. Thomas

You see, even though back then Barack was a senator and a presidential candidate, to me, he was still the guy who'd picked me up for our dates in a car that was so rusted out, I could actually see the pavement going by through a hole in the passenger side door. He was the guy whose proudest possession was a coffee table he'd found in a dumpster, and whose only pair of decent shoes was half a size too small. — Michelle Obama

How to repulse a demon (an old problem)? The demons, especially if they are demons of language (and what else could they be?) are fought by language. Hence I can hope to exorcise the demonic word which is breathed into my ears (by myself) if I substitute for it (if I have the gifts of language for doing so) another, calmer word (I yield to euphemism). Thus: I imagined I had escaped from the crisis at last, when behold
favored by a long car trip
a flood of language sweeps me away, I keep tormenting myself with the thought, desire, regret, and rage of the other; and I add to these wounds the discouragement of having to acknowledge that I am falling back, relapsing; but the French vocabulary is a veritable pharmacopoeia (poison on one side, antidote on the other): no, this is not a relapse, only a last soubresaut, a final convulsion of the previous demon. — Roland Barthes

But maybe her marriage wasn't a Lexus. Maybe it was a Pinto
one of those cars famous for blowing up when rear-ended. As she waited for the mechanics to fix her car, she walked out the back door to the wrecking yard and through the aisles of totaled cars and pickups, vehicles that other people had decided weren't worth fixing. She felt just like them. She felt like that Buick with the driver's-side door so crushed that the driver was undoubtedly hurt, but from the look of the other side, the passenger likely skated through unscathed. She felt like the Saturn with the shattered windshield through which no one could see what lay ahead. It looked as if it had been sandwiched in a multicar pileup. Jill knew exactly how it felt to crash into one thing and then get smashed from behind. She studied that Saturn and wondered whether it would have been salvageable if it had only been rear-ended instead of sandwiched, and she wondered if the same was true about her marriage. — Kaya McLaren

Gracie leaned out the back, craning her neck as far as she could around the side, trying to catch the wind in her nose and flapping lips. She loved driving, and this car was much faster than the truck which hauled her cage. It was very green here, and the sun flashed and flickered behind the tall trees. There were a million smells along this road, both old and just born. She closed her eyes and huffed, pretending she was flying. — Cole Alpaugh

Some time later, after Noah had discreetly disappeared, Declan's Volvo glided up, as quiet as the Pig was loud. Ronan said, "Move up, move up" to Blue until she scooted the passenger seat far enough for him to clamber behind it into the backseat. He hurriedly sprawled back in the seat, throwing one jean-covered leg over the top of Adam's and laying his head in a posture of thoughtless abandon. By the time Declan arrived at the driver's side window, Ronan looked as if he had been asleep for days.

"Lucky I was able to get away," Declan said. He peered into the car, eyes passing over Blue and snagging on Ronan in the backseat. His gaze followed his brother's leg to where it rested on top of Adam's, and his expression tightened.

"Thanks, D," Gansey said easily. With no effort, he pushed open the door, forcing Declan back without seeming to. He moved the conversation to the region of the front fender. It became a battle of genial smiles and deliberate hand gestures. — Maggie Stiefvater

Gansey leaned back, head thrown to the side, drunken and silly with happiness. "I love this car," he said, loud enough to be heard over the engine. "I should buy four more of them. I'll just open the door of one to fall in to the other. One can be a living room, one can be my kitchen, I'll sleep in one ... " "And the fourth? Butler's pantry?" Blue shouted. "Don't be so selfish. Guest room. — Maggie Stiefvater

I remember hearing myself start to whimper, a five-year-old, crouched by the side of the road, staring into my father's eyes, whimpering because it was so dark and there was no one coming to help, whimpering because my mother was back in the crushed car, not moving, and my father was lying here in the dirt, not answering me, not holding me, not comforting me, not helping my mother get out of the car, and there was blood, so much blood, and broken glass everywhere, and it was so dark and so cold and no one was coming to help. — Kelley Armstrong

So try to reveal your plan on a Friday night before you'll be dropping both kids off at friends' houses Saturday morning, for instance. When your kids start getting unruly, quietly pull over to a safe place (the side of the road, a parking lot, etc.). Turn off the car and pull a book or magazine out of the glove compartment. Don't say a word. When it's quiet, start up the car and pull back onto the road. — Amy McCready