A Quote by Paula Poundstone

Remember when you were considered an environmentalist when you didn't throw junk out the car window? I sure do miss that simpler, happier time. — © Paula Poundstone
Remember when you were considered an environmentalist when you didn't throw junk out the car window? I sure do miss that simpler, happier time.
I remember driving around with my parents when I was little and looking out of the window and being very aware that it was the shape of a film screen when you went to the cinema. This was how I first saw the world, framed through a car window.
We all pine for a time in life when things were simpler. Even when they weren't necessarily simpler, hindsight makes them look a lot simpler. The reality of it was that it wasn't.
The act of littering annoys me more than anything, particularly drivers who throw stuff out of the car window.
Boredom is your window on the properties of time that one tends to ignore to the likely peril of one's mental equilibrium. It is your window on time's infinity. Once this window opens, don't try to shut it; on the contrary, throw it wide open.
Although I didn't think so at the time, things were a lot simpler in 1969. All you had to do to express yourself was throw rocks at riot police. But with today's sophistication, who's in a position to throw rocks? Who's going to brave what tear gas? C'mon, that's the way it is. Everything is rigged, tied into that massive capital web, and beyond this web there's another web. Nobody's going anywhere. You throw a rock and it'll come right back at you.
Columbus is considered my second home, so I definitely miss Columbus for many different reasons. I definitely miss the good times I had there and I miss the guys for sure.
I don't see why a poem couldn't be spoken out a car window or written on the beach at low tide. In fact, I'm sure people are doing it.
I went to see my mother the other day, and she told me this story that I'd completely forgotten about how, when we were driving together, she would pull the car over, and by the time she had gotten out of the car, and gone around the car to let me out of the car, I would have already gotten out of the car and pretended to have died.
...buying a fly rod in the average city store, that is, joining it up and safely waggling it a bit, is much like seeing a woman's arm protruding from a car window: all one can readily be sure of is that the window is open.
I remember the first time I pulled out of my driveway in my grandparents' Nissan Ultimate or Centra. I just remember getting in a car that smells like my grandparents, with both my parents standing on the lawn, so petrified. That was my car up until I was 18.
Junk food, junk religion, and junk products just leads to excessive numbers of junk people living junk lifestyles.
If you throw money out of the window throw it out with joy. Don’t say: 'one shouldn't do that' - that is bourgeois.
He looks out into the empty street, allowing me to sit in his car and just miss her. To miss her each time I pull in a breath of air. To miss her with a heart that feels so cold by itself, but warm when thoughts of her flow through me.
Junk food's not going anywhere. The specifics of what's being snacked on, and what's considered 'junk' and what's 'healthy' will change, of course, depending on what's available.
I love road trips. You get into this Zen rhythm; throw sense of time out the window.
I remember my first play and it was 'Footloose.' I was High School Student No. 3 and we were doing the 'Cut Footloose' number and I remember looking out in the audience and feeling happier than I ever felt.
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