Being divorced is like being hit by a Mack truck. If you live through it, you start looking very carefully to the right and to the left.
You know how you wake up in the morning and sometimes you look gorgeous and other times you look like you got hit by a mack truck? I realized that my mack truck is food. If I have no sugar, yeast or wine, I have no undereye bags and my skin is perfect.
America is two Mack trucks colliding on a superhighway because all the drivers are on amphetamines.
Then again, it was Jace. He'd pick a fight with a Mack truck if the urge took him.
I'm watching my own daughter grow up. I see this overt sexual culture coming at her like a Mack truck. She's in seventh grade.
I was doing about five movies a year for many years. I was just so tired. I walked around feeling like a Mack truck hit me.
Why, oh why, had Jace picked a fight with a pack of wolves? What had possessed him? Then again, it was Jace. He'd pick a fight with a Mack truck if the urge took him. -Clary, pg.40-
When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time. You'd be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside—walking through their days with no idea who they are, just waiting for a heart attack or cancer or a Mack truck to come along and finish the job. It's the saddest thing I know.
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