A Quote by Yulia Tymoshenko

I just heard the latest joke about my hair: 'Do you know what that is on her head? It's a steering wheel to drive the state. — © Yulia Tymoshenko
I just heard the latest joke about my hair: 'Do you know what that is on her head? It's a steering wheel to drive the state.
I just heard the latest joke about my hair: 'Do you know what that is on her head? It's a steering wheel to drive the state.'
Mallory dropped her head to the steering wheel. "Look, I'm mad at you, okay? This isn't about me. I know my painful memories are relative. My life is good. I'm lucky. This isn't about how poor little Mallory has had it so hard. I'm not falling apart or anything." He stroked a hand down her back. "Of course you're not. You're just holding the steering wheel up with your head for a minute, that's all.
Imagine the peace symbol. The peace symbol has three pieces in it. One piece is emotion, that's your body. Another piece has spirit in it, that's your fuel. Another piece has intellect in it and that's your steering wheel. You can never overdo the fuel that goes into the body, which is the emotions and the steering wheel to drive it.
It will be as if I'd never existed. The words ran through my head, lacking the perfect clarity of my hallucination last night. They were just words, soundless, like print on a page. Just words, but they ripped the hole wide open, and I stomped on the brake, knowing I should not drive while this incapacitated. I curled over, pressing my face against the steering wheel and trying to breathe without lungs.
However God had it planned, I'm rockin' with how he do it. He took the steering wheel and I'm letting him drive.
I'm not a big fan of self-driving cars where there's no steering wheel or brake pedal. Knowing what I know about computer vision and AI, I'd be pretty uncomfortable with that. But I am a fan of a combined system - one that can brake for you if you fall asleep at the wheel, for example.
I hate waking up every morning to my alarm. I always bang my head on the steering wheel.
I drive like my body and my limitations leave me to do it. After my accident, I discovered that to do a roundabout in the road car, you don't have to grab the steering wheel, you can use friction to turn.
When I started driving our old four-door green DeSoto, I always took Skip on my trips around town. I would get Skip to prop himself against the steering wheel, his black head peering out of the windshield, while I crouched out of sight under the dashboard. Slowing the car to ten or fifteen, I would guide the steering wheel with my right hand while Skip, with his paws, kept it steady. As we drove by the Blue Front Café, I could hear one of the men shout: "Look at that ol' dog drivin' a car!"
I learnt to drive at around eleven years old. In an old jeep on a field in Colorado. There were lots of ditches. I could barely see over the steering wheel.
'Athletico Mince' started life as a football podcast but has dropped the football, unless the latest on the state of the 'hair island' atop Steve McLaren's head is your idea of football coverage.
The sexiest people are thinkers. Nobody's interested in somebody who's just vain with a hole in their head, talking about the latest thing - there is no latest thing. It's all rubbish.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange her long red hair before my bedroom mirror. she pulls her hair up and piles it on top of her head- she lets her eyes look at my eyes- then she drops her hair and lets it fall down in front of her face. we go to bed and I hold her speechlessly from the back my arm around her neck I touch her wrists and hands feel up to her elbows no further.
My mom drove like Britney Spears with the steering wheel and me right here [in her lap]. I'm fine, I turned out okay.
The wrong kind of guy to fall in love with is the guy who will let go of the steering wheel as a joke. A guy who finds it amusing to make you uncomfortable, which is more common than you'd think, is someone you want to avoid.
There's not one woman in America who does not care about her hair, but we give it way too much value. We deprive ourselves of things, we use it to destroy each other, we'll look at a child and judge a mother and her sense of motherhood by the way the child's hair looks. I am not going to traumatize my child about her hair. I want her to love her hair.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!