He doesn’t beat me,” I said irritably. “I’d kill him if he did. ” “She would. She has a temper. Stubborn, too. But we’re working on that, aren’t we, Ms. Lane?
When people are used to you doing something, they want you to stay in that lane.
Writing about real stuff that really concerned me brought out my craft. If you're writing a story about, 'Is Lois Lane gonna figure out that Superman is Clark Kent?' - it's really hard to get involved in that on anything other than a craft level. And I'm not gonna put down craftsmanship; it is a noble enough thing to have made a table that you can pound on and it doesn't fall down. But occasionally, we might have an assignment that engages some other parts of ourselves, and those tend to be the good stories.
Last year was the best Father's Day ever, 1,000th win for Ford and to have my daughter there for her first victory lane. I'm not sure how to top that, but hopefully something spectacular will happen. Michigan is one of my favorite tracks; it's a big fast place and has lots of room to race. There is always a lot of strategy going on. Fuel mileage and pit stops are very important.
Life is a highway - the enjoyment you get depends on the lane you choose.
I slapped my face two or three times with both hands, as hard as possible. The slapping hurt. It snapped me to attention. My adrenaline started flowing. . . the Yugoslavs, sitting in the next lane stared at me in disbelief. The harsh slapping made me angry-exactly what I wanted. I did my best work when I was angry.
There was something special and unique about the love triangle that existed between Clark Kent, Superman and Lois Lane.
Sometimes the road was only a lane, with thick hawthorne hedges, and the green elms overhung it on either side so that when you looked up there was only a strip of blue sky between. And as you rode along in the warm, keen air you had a sensation that the world was standing still and life would last forever. Although you were pedaling with such energy you had a delicious feeling of laziness.
I heard there are no male sidhe-seers. " Where did you hear that?" Around. " And which one of those are you in doubt about Ms. Lane?" Which one of what?" Whether I see the Fae, or whether I'm a man. I believe I've laid your mind to rest on the former; shall I relieve it on the latter?" He reached for his belt. Oh, please. " I rolled my eyes. "You're a leftie, Barrons. " Touche, Ms. Lane," he murmered.
If you want to find Cherry-Tree Lane all you have to do is ask the Policeman at the cross-roads.
I can't always be Lois Lane," I insisted. "I want to be Superman, too.
When you’re engaged in what you love to do, it’s like driving in the fast lane. Time flies by and more roads open up to you, alternate routes you may not have even known existed.
Last night you said you wanted to know what to expect so you could better select your attire. I told you we were going to visit a vampire in a Goth-den tonight. Why, then, Ms. Lane, do you look like a perky rainbow?
Do your thing, Ms. Lane. you might be criminally young, but the night is not.
I done became bigger swervin writin in my peer's lane. Same dudes that used to holla my engineer's name.
How beautiful is the rain! After the dust and the heat, In the broad and fiery street, In the narrow lane, How beautiful is the rain!
The field was wet, the lane was wet, and the spirits of my mechanic and helper were damp.
When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
If you already know the answer, Ms. Lane, don’t waste my time. You just wasted a month of it. ” -Barrons
I have always had the deepest respect for Bill Nicholson as a person and as a manager. The Spurs boss is an honest Yorkshireman and you will go a long way before finding a straighter character than that. Bill has never wavered in his determination to give White Hart Lane fans the best.