Garage Door Quotes & Sayings

I've got a Ferrari. VROOM! I do 104 from the garage to the front door. — Bill Cosby

barns. Hinged on their sides and latched in the center, the old garage doors swung open into the alley. No electric door openers, no remote controls. Drivers parked in the alley, got out and opened the swinging doors, then returned to their cars to pull inside. Beside each garage were garbage cans, waiting for the garbage trucks that still rumbled down the cinder alleys. Molded plastic garbage cans, some with small plastic wheels, had replaced the dented sheet metal cans that our parents had used. The plastic cans lasted longer, and they didn't rust, but you lost — Tom Robertson

Or was it a more sinister thing? Was the iPhone a malevolent protean organism, the stem-cell phone, mocking him who had cameras with real physical shutters whose sound you couldn't turn off? Promising to replace every other device on earth with its shape-shifting self - garage door openers, solar timers, television remotes, car keys, guitar tuners, GPS modules, light meters, spirit levels, you name it? — David Cronenberg

In the poetry of arrival, the garage door is free verse; the front door can be anything from a rhyming couplet to a sonnet. — Akiko Busch

Whatever they'd done to him, it had shaken something lose. "No," he repeated, calmer. "No. I'll save you for last. I owe you for what you did to me. I'll make you suffer like I did, then I'll bring you in."
And just like that, the fragile patchwork of hope shattered, stealing my breath and bleeding me dry. My hand closed around something - I had no idea what, but it was heavy. That was all I cared about. "Good," I said, resigned. I loved Kale and I'd do anything to get him back, but I wasn't stupid. "Then that gives me time."
"For what?"
I whipped the object - it turned out to be a wrench - around and slammed it into the side of Kale's head as Alex yanked up the garage door. "To knock some frigging sense into you."
I raced toward Alex as Kale went down and Kiernan burst through the door. — Jus Accardo

As soon as the garage door lowered, he slid his hand into her hair, drawing her in for another kiss. Her mouth tasted like sweet brandy and spice. Damn, she was delicious.

She ran her hands down his chest and tugged his shirt free from his jeans. He groaned as her cool hands explored his bare abs. His other hand wandered up from her waist, enjoying her curves until he was cupping her breast. She moaned into his mouth and arched her back into his touch, and he just about lost it right there.

He pulled back, his voice a husky whisper. "I need more room and fewer clothes. — Lisa Kessler

I can't remember the words she spoke when they finally opened the garage door and yanked me inside, but I was petrified. It wasn't sound Mom's screams or the jolt of her grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me like a rag doll that plagues my memory, but the look of her eyes- wide, wild, and unrecognizable. — Maggie Young

He got the impression she might be a bit fucked up, but that had always been his type. The kind that would break your headlights, egg your house, spray paint ASSHOLE on your garage door. — C.D. Breadner

I have a pacemaker in, but it doesn't work very well, because every time I fart the garage door opens. — Frank Carson

And keep a watch out at the garage door, because you'll be back by the stroke of seven thirty and in time for dinner or else you'll turn back into an alien and be deported to your home planet. — Kelly Creagh

I grew up where, when a door closed, a window didn't open. The only thing I had was cracks. I'd do everything to get through those cracks - scratch, claw, bite, push, bleed. Now the opportunity is here. The door is wide open, and it's as big as a garage. — Dwayne Johnson

Someone who takes the trouble to see her file at one of the many brokerages, for example, might see the home mortgage, a Verizon bill, and a $ 459 repair on the garage door. But she won't see that she's in a bucket of people designated as "Rural and Barely Making It,"or perhaps "Retiring on Empty. — Cathy O'Neil

Basically, Sam Phillips recorded Bill Haley, Johnny Cash, and all those other Memphis guys; Chuck Berry played the top two strings; Elvis appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show above the waist; the Beatles made all the girls squirm by singing about wanting to hold their "hands"; Ray Davies got lost in a sunset; Pete Townshend smashed his guitar; Brian Wilson heard magic in his head and made it come out of a studio; the Rolling Stones urinated on a garage door; and then (skipping a bit) you've got Joey Levine and Chapman-Chinn and Mott the Hoople and Iggy and the Runaways and KISS and the Pink Fairies and Rick Nielsen and Jonathan Richman and Johnny Ramone and Lemmy and the Young brothers and Cook and Jones and Pete Shelley and Feargal Sharkey and Rob Halford ... and Foghat. You get what I'm saying. It didn't happen in a vacuum, but it did happen, and now here we are in the aftermath. — Frank Portman

Kota!" I said, stepping away from my sisters and Lucy.
"You can sleep on the couch or in the garage or in the tree house for all I care; but if you don't check your attitude, I'll send you back to your apartment right now! Have some gratitude for the security you've been offered. Need I remind you that tomorrow we're burying our father? Either stop the bickering or go home." I turned on my heel and headed down the hall. Without checking, I knew Lucy was right behind me, suitcase in hand.
I opened the door to my room, waiting for her to come in with me. Once her skirts swished past the frame, I slammed it shut, heaving a sigh. "Was that too much?" I asked.
"It was perfect!" she replied with delight.
"You might as well be the princess already, miss. You're ready for it. — Kiera Cass

Of course I want you," she said right in his ear. "I love you." He let loose some kind of hoarse word, and his arms crushed her to him. As she found herself not being able to breathe because he was squeezing her so tight, she thought, Yup, this really was him. And he wasn't going to let her go this time. Thank. God. As he held Jane up off the ground, Vishous was wholly happy. Complete in a way that having all your fingers and toes couldn't hold a candle to. With a shout of triumph, he carried her into her condo, pausing only to put the garage door down. — J.R. Ward

When you arrive in your driveway and turn off the car, you remain behind the wheel another ten minutes. You fear the night is being locked in and coded on a cellular level and want time to function as a power wash. Sitting there staring at the closed garage door you are reminded that a friend once told you there exists the medical term - John Henryism - for people exposed to stresses stemming from racism. They achieve themselves to death trying to dodge the buildup of erasure. Sherman James, the researcher who came up with the term, claimed the physiological costs were high. You hope by sitting in silence you are bucking the trend. — Claudia Rankine

Increasingly we live in a world filled with the equivalents of deadly garage-door openers, unnecessary items that offer us mild and insipid comfort at the price of a dangerous and uncomfortable planet, and at the price of any real relationship to the physical world. if you live in a suburban home and commute to a parking garage somewhere, that ten seconds of opening the garage door(manually) might be nearly the only rain you ever feel. — Bill McKibben

Skulduggery: You won't want to move any sudden moves until we reach the road - I'll know if you crazy kids disturbs the air around the nice bag of explosives
Valkyrie: Blow it up
Skulduggery: Can't do that
Valkyrie: Why not?
Skulduggery: Not a bomb. It's a bag with collapsible jacks; for changin tyres
Valkryie: What about the remote?
Skulduggery: It opens my garage door. Don't tell them, but it doesn't even have any batteries in it — Derek Landy

Amos stopped before the entrance, which was the size of a garage door - a dark heavy square of timber with no visible handle or lock. "Carter after you."
"Um, how do I - "
"How do you think?"
Great another mystery. I was about to suggest we ram Amos's head against it and see if that worked. — Rick Riordan

Garage door openers mysteriously not working are a clue to electromagnetic interference (EMI) issues. — Steven Magee

I saw him making love to you, you forgot to close the garage door. — Bob Dylan

Okay, please do the memory wipe thing to my parents. That sounds amazing. And while you're at it, there was this time when I was twelve that I crashed my moms car into the garage door..."
"Lets not get carried away Mr. Portman. — Ransom Riggs

How'd you communicate?"
"Paper and pen. Amazing inventions. Anyway, once we were in Buffalo, I led him here. We couldn't figure out a way in and he got stressed and apparently that"
she waved at him
"is what happens when a werewolf gets stressed. By then, the garage door was open, some staff guy bringing in a car. He took one look at Derek and decided it was time for a new job — Kelley Armstrong

Ground rules, Tanner," he growled. Tanner paled. More good. "No alcohol. No smoking. No drugs. No looking at other girls. You can dance with my daughter. Your hands will avoid the danger zones, which are here, here and here." Liam gestured to his chest, groin and ass. "You can kiss her. Once. At 10:59 p.m. tonight, when you'll be standing here once again. I will be on the other side of this door, waiting for her. Am I clear?" "Yes, sir," Tanner whispered. "I was your age once, too," Liam said. "I'm aware of that, sir." "I know what you think about." "I'm sorry." "You can think it. You can't do it." "Okay." "I have many sharp tools in my garage." "Yes, sir." "We're clear, then?" "Very, sir." "Good!" Liam smiled, then grabbed the boy by the shoulder and dragged him in. "Nicole! Your date's here. — Kristan Higgins

Just what it said. I left a message telling him I had a garage full of stuff I needed to get rid of. I knew he'd be in the neighborhood the twenty-fourth, so all I had to do was give him my address. I had to be at work, so I put the fifty bucks in an envelope and taped it to the back door. I came home, he'd emptied the garage, and everything looked great." "So you never actually laid eyes on him and you never got his name?" "I needed the garage cleaned. I wasn't looking for a friend. What's the matter with you? — Sue Grafton

He shouldn't be the one to go; I'd used up the water. "Can't we get it in the morning?"
"It'll take me ten minutes." He shoved the couch aside enough to crack open the door. "Then I'll check the garage for a jack." He paused in the doorway. "Unless you want to go skinny-dipping. I'd risk being out at night for that — Kat Falls

When he grew up, he drove muscle cars (loud and fast) and motorcycles (again, loud and fast) and sat in his Dad's garage with the door rolled up, lifting weights. I watched this out of my bedroom window and it was better than anything on television, believe you me. — Kristen Ashley

I got a garage door opener. It can't close. Just open. — Steven Wright

Do you ever stand in here with that garage door open?"

"No I do not."

"Interesting," Clark said. — John Corey Whaley

By my tenth glass of wine I started to wonder whether there was something wrong with my palate. Everyone else was marking the wine list with notes like "Pleasant finish. Robust spices." Meanwhile, I was doodling pictures of vampiric cougars. Then I noticed people staring at my doodles, and so I started writing notes next to the wine. Things like "Tastes of NyQuil, but in a good way," and "This one will get you all the way fucked up." "I can't feel my feet anymore." "Did I leave the garage door open? I wonder whether the cat is on fire. I should probably stop drinking now." Everyone else there had a sophisticated palate. I had one that needed therapy, and possibly an intervention. — Jenny Lawson

My next door neighbor just had a pacemaker installed. They're still working the bugs out, though. Every time he makes love, my garage door opens. — Bob Hope

As she stood there looking about, that radio sound resolved into the bluff baritone of Burl Ives, encouraging all the world to have a holly jolly Christmas, and never mind it was the third week of March. The voice was coming from the attached garage, a dingy building with a single roll-up door and four square windows looking into it, milky with filth. — Joe Hill

Sorry I painted the word 'twat' on your garage door. — David Shrigley

Standing at the foot of the grand staircase, Wrath finished prepping for the meeting with the glymera by drawing a Kevlar vest onto his shoulders.
"It's light."
"Weight doesn't always do you better," V said as he fired up a hand-rolled and snapped his gold lighter shut.
"You sure about that."
"When it comes to bulletproof vests, I am." Vishous exhaled, the smoke momentarily shading his face before it floated upward to the ornate ceiling. "But if it'll make you feel better, we can strap a garage door on your chest. Or a car, for that matter."

-Wrath & Vishous — J.R. Ward

Either way, excitement hummed through me as we headed out to the garage. I'd never seen an exorcism before. This should prove interesting.
"Can I yell 'By the power of Christ, I compel you' whenever we get to that point?" I asked.
"What?" Zayne laughed as he opened my passenger door. "Hate to break it to you, but we don't have to say a word and no one will be yelling anything like that."
I pouted. Dammit, I'd always wanted to say that. "Well, that's not nearly as entertaining as the exorcisms I've seen on TV. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Inconvenience yourself: ditch the remote, the garage door opener, the leaf-blower; buy a bike, broom, rake, and snow shovel. — Dan Buettner

He openned the door that he assumed was the garage only to find himself in the pantry.
crap.
"Um ... grabbing some Pop-Tarts for the road," Nick said, covering his mistake. Still, they both stared at him as if he'd escaped Arkham Asylum. Offering them a fake smile, he grabbed the pastries, crossed himself, and hoped he got the next door correct.
Nope. Bathroom.
With a pain-filled groan at his rampant stupidity, Nick pretended to use it before he tried again. At least there were only two more doors to go.
Fifty-fifty chance.
Thankfully, third time was the charm. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

You can't fix stupid. You can't fix a neutered dog you can't fix a garage door and hey, you can't fix stupid — Si Robertson

Selecting garage doors is not same like choosing interior doors of the house. These are very different things. You will be glad to know that there are several choices available for garage doors. Before deciding on the best type of loans which you should buy you will have to know a lot about it first. Always try and have all the basic knowledge so that you can always have the ideal door for your garage.Know more about garage doors at atlanticoceangrp . — Tiffany Wood

Finally the kitchen clock said 5:17. It was time to roll out. I shouted for my mom, woke Jeffrey up, ran upstairs, changed into my concert clothes, put on my shoes, and was standing by the door to the garage by 5:19 - chanting "Let's go! Come on!" (Feel free to try that at home, by the way; moms love it!) — Jordan Sonnenblick

His familiar husky voice sent a wave of wistfulness through me. A thousand memories spun in my head, tangling together- a rocky beach strewn with driftwood trees, a garage made of plastic sheds, warm sodas in a paper bag, a tiny room with one too-small shabby loveseat. The laughter in his deep-set black eyes, the feverish heat of his big hand around mine, the flash of his white teeth against his dark skin, his face stretching into the wide smile that had always been like a key to a secret door where only kindred spirits could enter. It felt sort of like homesickness, this longing for the place and person who had sheltered me through my darkest night. — Stephenie Meyer

I've never vied for power in the family before. Pointing a box at the garage door and saying "Open!" was never a big deal, but holding that television tuner and realizing I alone control what is flashed on the screen brings out the Iacocca in me. — Erma Bombeck

hair. He's bald now. But he still looks like he could ride a bull ragged." I jump at the sound of the garage door. Mom gives me a little wave, then crosses the kitchen as silently as if she were floating on a magic carpet and disappears down the hall. Moments later, my father walks through the kitchen door, his face drawn and tired. "I figured you'd be waiting for me." "Dad, we've got to talk." Dread seems to seep from the pores in his face. "Let me get a drink. I'll meet you in the library. — Greg Iles

Leaning against my car after changing the oil,
I hold my black hands out and stare into them
as if they were the faces of my children looking
at the winter moon and thinking of the snow
that will erase everything before they wake.
In the garage, my wife comes behind me
and slides her hands beneath my soiled shirt.
Pressing her face between my shoulder blades,
she mumbles something, and soon we are laughing,
wrestling like children among piles of old rags,
towels that unravel endlessly, torn sheets,
work shirts from twenty years ago when I stood
in the door of a machine shop, grease blackened,
and Kansas lay before me blazing with new snow,
a future of flat land, white skies, and sunlight.
After making love, we lie on the abandoned
mattress and stare at our pale winter bodies
sprawling in the half-light. She touches her belly,
the scar of our last child, and the black prints
of my hand along her hips and thighs. — B.H. Fairchild

We need a barn or one of those storage areas for the Broken vehicles."
"A garage?"
He gave her a short nod. "A private, relatively remote location, with thick walls to dampen the sound and preferably a sturdy door I could bolt from the inside, keeping your grandmother, your brothers, and all other painfully annoying spectators out ... "
Rose began to laugh. A make-out bunker ...
"I'm glad you find our dilemma hilarious, — Ilona Andrews

If you walked into Netscape headquarters with a plain old modem from CompUSA they'd think it was a garage-door opener. — Walt Mossberg

The doctor must have put my pacemaker in wrong. Every time my husband kisses me, the garage door goes up. — Minnie Pearl

Isaiah opens my car door and his warm silver eyes smile at me. "Hey."
I sweep my bangs from my eyes. "Hi."
He offers his hand and I accept. His fingers wrap around mine and heat surges up my arm, flushes my neck and settles into a blush on my face. He tugs gently and I slip out. I'm not sure if my body vibrates from the rumbling of the garage door closing or from the blood pounding in my veins.
Our fingers lace together, and his other hand smoothly cups my hip. I suck in a breath, surprised that someone touches me so easily and with such care.
"You look nice," he says.
"I'm in my school uniform." White button-down blouse, maroon-and-black plaid skirt, and a pair of white Keds. Nothing spectacular.
"I know." The seductive slide in his voice causes the back of my neck to tickle. — Katie McGarry

Day climbed in first and asked. "Where's the rest of your big stuff?"

God smiled. "Joker brought his guys and put everything in a SWAT van and stored it in his garage. I only had like five pieces."

"So he was the one you called to come to your rescue, huh?" Day asked and slammed the door to the truck.

"Hey." God turned Day's chin to face him. "I swear on everything, I was miserable for those few hours and you know it."

Day pffted.

"I tracked your ass down, didn't I?" God stated.

"Yeah, you did." Day laughed when he thought about God scaring off his boy toy. He laughed so hard that God started laughing too. — A.E. Via

One of my books is a hallucinogen, an aphrodisiac, a mood elevator, an intellectual garage door opener, and a metaphysical trash compactor. They'll do everything except rotate your tires. — Tom Robbins

What Hicks had wanted most in this world was to run a garage and repair shop with his old chum, Dell Able. Beaufort ended all that. He means to conduct a sort of memorial shop, anyhow, with "Hicks and Able" over the door. He wants to roll up his sleeves and look at the logical and beautiful inwards of automobiles for the rest of his life. — Willa Cather

If you kill a black man, the world is silent. You can hear a garage door opening from twenty blocks away. You can pick up a pay phone and only hear the dial tone. Shooting stars sound exactly like the soft laughter of a little girl in Gasworks Park. If you kill a white man, the world erupts with noise: fireworks, sirens, a gavel pounding a desk, the slamming of doors. — Sherman Alexie

There was a movement to my right, and I snuck a quick glance to see Zee and Gabriel coming out the garage door. They must have gone back around. Zee had a crowbar in one hand and held it like another man might hold a sword. Gabriel had
"Zee," I squeaked. "Tell him to put the torque wrench back and grab something that won't cost me five hundred dollars if he hits someone with it."
"Won't cost five hundred," said Zee, but as I glanced over again, he nodded at the white-faced Gabriel, who looked at what he held as if he'd never seen it before. The boy slipped back into the garage as Zee said, "It wouldn't break it - you'd just have to get it recalibrated."
"We have a whole garage worth of tools - pry bars, tire irons, and even a hammer or two. There's got to be something better than my torque wrench he could have grabbed. — Patricia Briggs

That one brown house still had that hole in its garage door splintering like a chewed cookie smile, the hole the exact size and height of the car parked on the driveway in front of it. — Tim Kinsella

The garage door slid open as we pulled into the driveway, registering the sensors Shaun and I wear around our neck. In case of viral amplification, the garage becomes the zombie equivalent of a roach motel: Our sensors get us in, but only a clean blood test and a successful voice check gets us out. If we ever fail those tests, we'll be incinerated by the house defense system before we can do any further damage. — Mira Grant

He took a trip ... up to ... Elliott's house, his mansion rather. Awful place, twelve bedrooms and swimming pool and media hall and five car garage, but cheap and shoddy all the same, like the one next door and next door to that. A row of Ikea houses, such wealthy mediocrity. His very own son. His big, bald son. Who could believe it. The bigness, the baldness, the stupidity. In a house designed to bore the daylight out of visitors, no character at all, all blonde wood and fluorescent lighting and clean white machinery.
Not to mention his brand new wife, number three, a clean white machine herself. Up from the cookie cutter and into Elliott's life, she might as well have jumped out of the microwave, her skin orange, her teeth pearly white. A trophy wife. But why the word "trophy"? Something to shoot on a safari. — Colum McCann

A Polish man had his vasectomy done at Sears. Now when he makes love, the garage door goes up. — Henny Youngman

Taking out her gun, she turned to Monique. "You have any offensive capabilities? Know how to fire a weapon?" "My face and my body are my weapons, Guild Hunter." A hint of that upper-class sneer entered her tone. "Sex is about as physical as I get." "Bully for you." She slammed a fist on the garage door. "Hurry, Janvier! — Nalini Singh

Moments later, there was a loud, protracted crashing sound. "Motherfucker!" "What was that?" "I just backed through the garage door." "Jesus. You okay?" "I'm fine," she said. "The whole damn door came down. I'll just drive over it." "Drive carefully. — Jonathan Tropper