There's this classic car crash thing about 'Macbeth.' You can just see this car driving at 100 mph towards this brick wall, and you can't do anything about it, and the characters are desperately trying to stop it and can't.
I drive a car, like an adult. Not brilliantly. I'm not great.
I'm glad to see that BMW is bringing an electric car to market. That's cool.
I do sing in the car. I actually sing Britney Spears songs in the car - me and a close friend of mine. She lives in West Palm and I live in Miami, and when we're going back and forth to see each other, we sing: 'Oh, Baby Baby.' We sing all these 1990s songs. We're like two 14-year-old kids just having a good time.
I had a couple of chances to go inside the broadcast booth when I was out of the car in 2016 and loved it a lot.
Everyone loved my father. He was so nice that people took advantage of him. We were lower middle class. I slept in the hallway on a cot that rolled away during the day, and my younger brother and sister slept in my parents' room. My goal as a kid was to someday have my own room and to own a car - and I wanted to be able to take care of my parents.
In the trunk of her car, my mother used to keep a collapsible easel, a clutch of brushes, a little wooden case stocked with tubes of paint, and, tucked into the spare-tire well, one of my father's old, tobacco-stained shirts, for a smock.
The fact is that a car used by Gerry Adams and myself during the course of the Mitchell review was bugged by elements within British military intelligence.
Chrysler builds great cars.
I would bump A Tribe Called Quest in my car all day.
Cotton Owens was leading and daddy was second. They came up on me and I moved over to let them pass. Cotton went on, but daddy bumped me in the rear and my car went right into the wall.
We have an uncanny ability to make birds do what we want them to do. In Blood Simple there's a shot from the bumper of a car and it's going up this road and a huge flock of birds takes off at the perfect moment.
Now and then, when I grow nostalgic about my ocean childhood - the wauling of gulls and the smell of salt, somebody solicitous will bundle me into a car and drive me to the nearest briny horizon.
If mass media, social isolation in the suburbs, alienating workplaces and long car commutes create a bunker mentality, the Internet does the opposite.
I love cars; I like the idea of manufacturing something, having a product, a hard product to sell and promote, but as time went on, I recognized that car companies are so bureaucratic and so ossified that it would take forever to work your way up. And so I went into consulting.
I like my shame straight up and honest, and nobody does it better than In-N-Out Burger. You go to In-N-Out Burger, and they ask you the most shameful question in fast food. 'I'll have a burger, fries and a Coke.' 'Will you be eating in the car?' 'Yeah. I think so.'
Rebellion is what you make of it. When you've been on a tour bus for two months straight, and then you get in your car and drive wherever you want, that can feel rebellious.
For some reason, the busier I am at the track, the better I tend to race. I think it's because I don't have to deal with all the distractions outside the car that can get me in trouble at times.
When I was really young, I busted my nose when I was racing. The first thing my dad asked me was: 'Are you OK?' I said, 'Can you fix the car for tomorrow?' And I won the race the next day.
I want to let my friend Buster know that I would like to have dinner with him tonight. Does Buster work at home? Then how likely is he to have his cell phone on? Is he one of those people who only turns on his cell when he's in his car? I hate that.
