I don't like to drive. I don't like the aggressiveness that goes along with driving.

I love driving; driving along the California coastline is the best drive in the world.

It's just the bad that goes along with the good,

Three o'clock in the morning.

The highway is empty, under a malignant moon. The oil drippings make the roadway gleam like a blue-satin ribbon. The night is still but for a humming noise coming up somewhere behind a rise of ground.

Two other, fiercer, whiter moons, set close together, suddenly top the rise, shoot a fan of blinding platinum far down ahead of them. Headlights. The humming burgeons into a roar. The touring car is going so fast it sways from side to side. The road is straight. The way is long. The night is short. (Jane Brown's Body")

Too bad all the people who know how to run the country are busy driving taxi cabs and cutting hair

The con movie is a little bit different where maybe we tell you what we're going to do but it never goes down the way you expect because there's so much double-crossing and cheats and lies going on along the whole way.