A Quote by Kathy Hilton

Paris didn't get a car until she was 19. Nicky didn't get a car until she was 20. — © Kathy Hilton
Paris didn't get a car until she was 19. Nicky didn't get a car until she was 20.

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It was not until I started racing for car manufacturers that I found a car I could really get attached to. I am the son of a car dealer, so up until then, cars just came and went.
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.
I didn't grow up with a lot of money, so my mom didn't have random money to buy me a car, and I didn't have money to have a car unless I worked, so I didn't get a car until I got my first job at 18.
When my wife drives, there's always trouble. The other day she took the car. She came home. She told me, There's water in the carburetor. I asked her, Where's the car? She said, In a lake.
What did she say?" Eve asked when they got into the car. "Here's love, she said, to hold until next we meet and I give you more.
Praise not the day until evening has come, a woman until she is burnt, a sword until it is tried, a maiden until she is married, ice until it has been crossed, beer until it has been drunk.
My sister has kids, including two in baby seats, and she drives a minivan. I had to climb over the car seats to get into the back seat, and it seemed ridiculous to have to do gymnastics to get in and out of the car.
Me and my mum were really close. She'd come to all my football games; she was the one who was always there. If it was raining, and I didn't want to go, she'd say, 'Get in the car!'
You could drive a rental car until you don't want it. Just get out of it while it's moving and just walk away. No, I don't feel like being in that car any longer. Just call Hertz. Hi, your car is drifting into the intersection of 28th and Broadway, if you're interested. It's now your problem.
Even murderers, I suppose, experience the loss of car keys the way the rest of us do. I mean, how can they not? Once you make this person scramble around the house looking for her car keys and finally find them, get in the car, and run into traffic, we can identify with her enough that when she stops the car and pulls the gun out of her purse and heads in to kill somebody, we'll be with her as much as is possible.
If the next car passed is blue, Violet will be okay, she thought. If it's red, A will do something horrible to her. She heard a growl of an engine and shut her eyes, afraid to see what the future might hold. She'd never cared so much about anything in her life. Just as the car was passing, she opened her eyes and saw a Mercedes hood ornament. She let out a long sigh, tears coming to her eyes once more. The car was blue.
Let him treat you like a lady and open the car door for you. If he doesn't automatically open the door for you, stand by the darn thing and don't get into the vehicle until he realises he needs to get hid behind out of the driver's seat and come round and open the car door for you. That's his job!
But she did not take her eyes from the wheels of the second car. And exactly at the moment when the midpoint between the wheels drew level with her, she threw away the red bag, and drawing her head back into her shoulders, fell on her hands under the car, and with a light movement, as though she would rise immediately, dropped on her knees. And at the instant she was terror-stricken at what she was doing. 'Where am I? What am I doing? What for?' She tried to get up, to throw herself back; but something huge and merciless struck her on the head and dragged her down on her back.
It's always been jewelry, clothes, appearance. Those are things that compete with the car. But the car is the ultimate. Get that car right and it doesn't matter what you got on or what you wear once you step out of that car.
America has so much debt, if she were a person she'd need a co-signer to get a car loan.
I did some pretty bad things as a teenager. When I was 13, I took my friend's mom's car out for a joyride, and I actually managed to hit somebody else's car. No one was hurt, but needless to say, I didn't get behind the wheel again until I had my driver's license.
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