Bomber Jacket Quotes

Nick was dressed in jeans, a dark green sweater, and bomber jacket–the perfect image of a rich college student. Talon looked like a biker who had just left Sanctuary, New Orleans’s premier biker bar. Acheron looked like a refugee from the Dungeon–the local underground goth hangout. Valerius was the professional contingent, and Zarek…Zarek just looked like he was ready to kill something.’ (Talon)

...all assumed he died too.' (leo) 'Beause he did,' NIco said. 'Then a few days later,' Will continued, 'his scroll came fluttering into camp on the wind...' 'I still have it.' Nico rummaged through the pockets of his bomber jacket. 'I look at it whenever I want to get angry.

When I started writing I wanted the best tools. I skipped right over chisels on rocks, stylus on wet clay plates, quills and fountain pens, even mechanical pencils, and went straight to one of the first popular spin-offs of the aerospace program: the ballpoint pen. They were developed for comber navigators in the war because fountain pens would squirt all over your leather bomber jacket at altitude. (I have a cherished example of the next generation ballpoint, a pressurized Space Pen cleverly designed to work in weightlessness, given to me by Spider Robinson. At least, I cherish it when I can find it. It is also cleverly designed to seek out the lowest point of your desk, roll off, then find the lowest point on the floor, under a heavy piece of furniture. That's because it is cylindrical and lacks a pocket clip to keep it from rolling. In space, I presume it would float out of your pocket and find a forgotten corner of your spacecraft to hide in. NASA spent $3 million developing it. Good job, guys. I'm sure it's around here somewhere.)

We lived only to dance. What was the true characteristic of a queen, I wondered later on; and you could argue that forever. “What do we all have in common in this group?” I once asked a friend seriously, when it occurred to me how slender, how immaterial, how ephemeral the bond was that joined us; and he responded, “We all have lips.” Perhaps that is what we all had in common: no one was allowed to be serious, except about the importance of music, the glory of faces seen in the crowd. We had our songs, we had our faces! We had our web belts and painter’s jeans, our dyed tank tops and haircuts, the plaid shirts, bomber jackets, jungle fatigues, the all-important shoes.

The automatic doors of the terminal parted like the Red Sea and Jishnu Guha walked through, in jeans, a white T-shirt and a bomber jacket, and wayfarers perched on his nose though the sun had barely risen outside.

ceremony rehearsal, and one of the groomsmen dared to suggest that Evan might want to take a small sedative before the real wedding, which, as you can imagine, did not go over well. Oh, and Francois threatened to quit halfway through the final menu tasting.” Harmony cringed. “Yikes.” “I think if Francois would have quit, I would have too.” I sighed. “I believe it. I’ve never seen you use the coffee table as an ottoman before.” I smiled and wiggled my toes. “I don’t know why not.” “Well, as you explained to me, this here is an authentic Jason Partillo design,” Harmony replied, a lilt in her voice as she gently needled me with her elbow. I laughed softly. “Are you trying to say that those of us who live in diva houses shouldn’t throw shoes?” She barked a laugh. “No. This Evan guy sounds like he left diva in the dust a long time ago and plowed straight into narcissistic jerk land.” “Can’t argue with that.” I closed my eyes, my head leaning against the back of the sofa. “Two days and then it’s over and they won’t be my problem anymore. I have fifteen weddings between now and June. That’s going to feel like a walk in the park compared to this nonsense.” “And in the meantime, you get the rest of the night off to spend with me and your bestie!” Harmony said. “Assuming I can stay awake, that is,” I replied, peeling my eyes open. “I should have left room in the schedule for a pre-dinner nap.” Harmony laughed and sprang off the sofa to continue getting ready. “Do you think I should wear my black tights with the red sweater dress, or can I get away with jeans? Is the place we’re going fancy fancy or fancy-ish?” I smiled at my sister’s nervous musings. She wasn’t one to ask for my fashion advice, mostly because I preferred my clothes hole-free and didn’t own anything with spikes or studs on it. While she could dress up when the situation warranted, Harmony tended toward a certain grunge-chic aesthetic with colorful streaks in her otherwise bleached-blonde hair, four piercings in each ear, and a penchant for artfully torn clothing and bomber jackets. And she’d recently added a small crystal stud to her nose. “It’s fancy-adjacent,” I told her. “Go with the leggings and dress.” Harmony nodded, even as her teeth worked nervously at her lower lip. I smiled. “She’s going to love you, Harmony. Stop stressing.” Holly Boldt, my good friend and fellow witch, was coming into the Seattle Haven to speak at a potion making conference, and we’d made plans

Jason and his parents lived directly across the street. He was outside that day trying to get some mail-order rocket to soar into the heavens. What a rip-off! The whole time I was watching him, the stupid thing never made it a yard off the ground. It was after about the hundredth try, when the movers had half the truck unloaded, that I noticed his ass rolling his beady eyes at me. I was using a piece of pink chalk to draw a makeshift hopscotch diagram on the street in front of my house when he approached me. His Kangol hat and leather bomber jacket made him look like a pint-size pimp. All he needed was a couple of gold teeth.

stood on the welcome mat, wearing his old bomber jacket, his boyish features grimly set. Blue

Natalie gave him a smile and lifted the mug to her lips. The tea was just right. ‘Who’s the FLO on this?’ Murray asked, referring to the family liaison officer who’d be with the officer breaking the news to Ava’s parents. ‘Tanya Granger. I told her we’d go over later to talk to them. Give them a chance for the news to sink in first.’ Natalie brushed to one side the printed articles they’d retrieved from the Internet, and spoke again. ‘DI Howard Franks led the original investigation. He had to retire from the force soon afterwards on account of his wife’s health. She’s sadly passed away since. He’ll be in any minute to take us through it. Has to drop off his daughters at school first.’ On cue, the ex-detective arrived, dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt and a light-coloured bomber jacket.

One of the defining features of Beaumont Wear Outwear 2024 is its fearless approach to design. Bold colors, striking patterns, and unexpected details abound, creating a sense of excitement and dynamism. Whether it’s a vibrant trench coat or a daring bomber jacket, each piece makes a statement and demands attention, allowing wearers to express their unique sense of style with confidence.

Look, babe, I’m not that kind of gay. I’m pansexual. We don’t know shit about jackets.” “That’s reductive,” Dom quips. “It’s a bomber jacket, for your pansexual information.” “I’ll let the other pansexuals know.

There were a couple of Bowie twins from Hatfield in Hertfordshire. They were both tall and razor thin, and looked like a slightly more exaggerated version of David Bowie on the cover of Young Americans. Their hair was even more exaggerated: deep red with bleached streaks through the front, but also with pink highlights cascading over their eyes, and slicked back at the sides. Pencil-thin dark plucked eyebrows, very pale complexions, with black mascara. They always wore the shiniest black or red plastic dungarees. Outside the club they would wear these slightly furry leopard-skin bomber jackets, which I thought looked great. They had a mad, slurry way of talking, and kind of shouted and talked at the same time. They would jump from one subject to another in mid-sentence. They were very unusual people. Every second line was ‘Never mind the bollocks.’ They would say that three hundred times a night. Everything was ‘Never mind the bollocks.’ I know for a fact that the Sex Pistols got the name for their album from the twins. They both earned a living selling hot dogs. One worked on Charing Cross Road, the other down by Trafalgar Square. They were mad. If you stopped to talk to them, they would always be arguing with someone. Man or woman, they always had the same line: ‘Now listen, sweetheart: never mind the bollocks.

Airin G-1 Black & White Leather Bomber Jacket Albert Einstein Brown Leather Jacket 4’s up Fredo Bang Varsity Jacket Mens Vintage Cognac Leather Car Coat Alveraz | Men’s Black Sheepskin Biker Leather Jacket Armageddon | Men’s Black Sheepskin Leather Biker Jacket Austin Men Cafe Racer Off White Real Leather Jacket Aviator Pilot Flying Fur Shearling B3 Raf Brown Jacket