If transportation technology was moving along as fast as microprocessor technology, then the day after tomorrow I would be able to get in a taxi cab and be in Tokyo in 30 seconds.
Every taxi driver I have ever spoken to has a theory of gender.
Life is like a taxi. The meter just keeps a-ticking.
Taxi drivers are the ones who pay me the most attention. They seem to be into River Cottage and have a dream of moving to the country, so I have chats with them.
I love Taxi Driver. When I saw it the first time, I didn't understand it, but I loved it because I thought the guy was really cool when he's talking to himself in the mirror.
I imagined loading the God of the Sea into a taxi and taking him to the Upper East Side.
And lastly from that period I remember riding in a taxi one afternoon between very tall buildings under a mauve and rosy sky; I began to bawl because I had everything I wanted and knew I would never be so happy again.
America is replicated at every level of British life, from the taxi driver to the prime minister.
Silence sat in the taxi, as though a stranger had got in.
I live in a bad neighborhood. Why, I saw two complete strangers share a taxi - yeah, one guy took the radio and the other guy took the tires.
Here's how you know that you're really drunk: when you get into a taxi cab and you think the fare is the time.
Once I was doing a sponsored walk. In the end I managed to raise so much money, I could afford a taxi.
Timmy, who made a daring escape, also made a mistake of paying the taxi driver with a check made out of toilet paper.
On how to make the game more exciting - Eliminate the referees, raise the basket four feet, double the size of the basketball, limit the height of the players to 5 feet 9 inches, bring back the centre jump, allow taxi drivers in for free and allow the players to carry guns.
When I came to New York it was the first time I'd ever taken a plane, the first time I'd ever gotten a taxi-cab, the first time for everything. And I came here with 35 dollars in my pocket. It was the bravest thing I'd ever done.
I had a job as a paralegal. I drove a cab.
Something amazing happens when the rest of the world is sleeping. I am glued to my chair. I forget that I ever wanted to do anything but write. The crowded city, the crowded apartment, and the crowded calendar suddenly seem spacious. Three or four hours pass in a moment; I have no idea what time it is, because I never check the clock. If I chose to listen, I could hear the swish of taxis bound for downtown bars or the soft saxophone riffs that drift from a neighbor's window, but nothing gets through. I am suspended in a sensory deprivation tank, and the very lack of sensation is delicious.
If only men were like New York taxi-cabs and had a light that they can switch on when they're interested and off when they're not available. Then you'd know exactly where you were and you wouldn't have to worry about getting it wrong and being horribly embarrassed. --- Lucy
I read," I say. "I study and read. I bet I've read everything you read. Don't think I haven't. I consume libraries. I wear out spines and ROM-drives. I do things like get in a taxi and say, "The library, and step on it." My instincts concerning syntax and mechanics are better than your own, I can tell, with all due respect. But it transcends the mechanics. I'm not a machine. I feel and believe. I have opinions. Some of them are interesting. I could, if you'd let me, talk and talk.
So a man jumps into a taxi and says "King Arthur's close" and the taxi driver says, "don't worry we'll lose him at the next lights".
I have a drivers licence, but the truth is that I hardly ever drive. I prefer to get around by taxi.
Taxi drivers all over the world, by the way, are under Newspaper Guild contract to give easy quotes to foreign correspondents.
In New York, I find people so courteous and so generous. Free drinks in bars. Free taxi rides.
Sometimes I get drunk and I get into arguments with taxi drivers. And I get out the cab and I slam the door. That's not the way to win an argument with a taxi driver. The way to win is you get out of the cab and you leave the door open. And then he has to step out and come around and close that door. And while he's doing that, I'm on the other side opening the other doors-and we just go around and around and around, and I got my own Benny Hill situation going on in life.
Pack the one bag. Unpack it, pack it, unpack it, pack it: passeport, ticket, book, taxi, airport, check-in, beer, announcement, stairs, airplane, fasten seat-belt, air born, flight, rocking, sun, stars, space, hips of strolling stewardesses, read, sleep, clouds, falling engine speed, descent, circling, touch down, earth, unfasten seat-belt, stairs, airport, immunization book, visa, customs, questions, taxi, streets, houses, people, hotel, key, room, stuffiness, thirst, otherness, foreignness, loneliness, fatigue, life.
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