Double Decker Bus Quotes

If a double decker bus Crashes into us To die by your side Oh the pleasure, the prvilige is mine

and if a double-decker bus crashes into us to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die and if a ten ton truck kills the both of us to die by your side well the pleasure, the privilege is mine

Sharon exuded the brightness of a firefly, the confidence of a double-decker bus, the optimism of a hedgehog and the tact of a small thermonuclear missile.

A few moments later the bus pulled up. It was an old-fashioned red double-decker bus that you could jump on at the back. I went to sit on the bench at the back of the bus and was placing my guitar case in the storage space near where the conductor was standing when, behind me, I saw a sudden flash of ginger fur. Before I knew it, Bob had jumped up and plonked himself on the seat next to where I was sitting.

She watched a red double-decker bus swaying along beside them. Everyone inside looked tired and bored. "How can you be bored? You live in London! You're breathing the same air as the Queen and Vivienne Westwood!

There were streets, narrow and crowded with people and vehicles. Above them flashed neon lights and blinking billboards of every colour, shape and size. Some ran up the sides of buildings, others blinked on and off in store windows. In the space above the sidewalk, higher than a double-decker bus, hung flashing neon signs in bright pink, yellow, read, blue, orange, green and white. Yes, if white could be whiter than white, it was when it was in neon, Hong Mei thought. She knew Nathan Road in Kowloon was famous for its neon lights.

For the longest time, the crucial importance to health of just moving around was hardly appreciated. But in the late 1940s a doctor at Britain’s Medical Research Council, Jeremy Morris, became convinced that the increasing occurrence of heart attacks and coronary disease was related to levels of activity, and not just to age or chronic stress, as was almost universally thought at the time. Because Britain was still recovering from the war, research funding was tight, so Morris had to think of a low-cost way to conduct an effective large-scale study. While traveling to work one day, it occurred to him that every double-decker bus in London was a perfect laboratory for his purposes because each had a driver who spent his entire working life sitting and a conductor who was on his feet constantly. In addition to moving about laterally, conductors climbed an average of six hundred steps per shift. Morris could hardly have invented two more ideal groups to compare. He followed thirty-five thousand drivers and conductors for two years and found that after he adjusted for all other variables, the drivers—no matter how healthy—were twice as likely to have a heart attack as the conductors. It was the first time that anyone had demonstrated a direct and measurable link between exercise and health.

city – from the beach to the Olympic hillside. For tourists who don’t want to grapple with public transport, there is the Barcelona Bus Turistic made up of three bus lines – blue, red and green routes that explore different parts of the city. You can get on and off at any point. Normally, I stay away from these double‐decker tourist explorers, but for a city as large as Barcelona, the system makes getting from beach to cathedrals to hillside parks very easy. There are also walking tours for those with very comfortable shoes. Barcelona offers so much to visitors that I couldn’t possibly tell you what to visit. But items not to miss are, in my opinion, the architecture of Antoni Gaudi which includes his unique cathedral, La Sagrada Familia which remains unfinished, his apartment building, La Pedrera which has no straight lines on its exterior, and his idealistic Parc Guell, a colourful complex on a high hillside. Within the city of Barcelona you could spend a day or more walking Los Ramblas, a wide pedestrian tree‐lined promenade that is a wonderful place to watch people, taste great food, wine and enjoy life. Nearby is the Placa de Catalunya, the main square with fountains, street artists and restaurants. The Gothic Quarter is walking distance with its network of squares that stretch back to Medieval and Roman times. This city offers so much – a medieval city, art museums, flamenco dancing, cable car to the top of Montjuïc, need I go on? Tours to local vineyards are available as are boat trips that will show you the local coastline. And let’s not forget that Barcelona is a city with beautiful beaches – all relaxed, lined with cafes and restaurants. The

An image began to form in her mind. There were streets, narrow and crowded with people and vehicles. Above them flashed neon lights and blinking billboards of every colour, shape and size. Some ran up the sides of buildings, others blinked on and off in store windows. In the space above the sidewalk, higher than a double-decker bus, hung flashing neon signs in bright pink, yellow, red, blue, orange, green and white. Yes, if white could be whiter than white, it was when it was in neon, Hong Mei thought. She knew Nathan Road in Kowloon was famous for its neon lights. Were these streets of Kowloon that she was seeing it her head?

And if a double-decker bus crashes into us. To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die.

Released in 1967, The Sweet Primeroses marked Shirley’s reunion with her sister Dolly, who had studied modern composition with Alan Bush and was now leading a faintly eccentric existence installed with a piano in a double-decker bus in a field outside Hastings, attempting to reconnect with what she believed were the Collins family’s Irish Gypsy ancestry (their mother was camped nearby in a painted wagon). In accompanying her younger sister, Dolly chose the portative organ, also known as a pipe or flute organ, a contraption dating back to the thirteenth century that consists of squared-off upright wooden pipes.

Poem (I Can’t Speak for the Wind) I don’t know about the cold. I am sad without hands. I can’t speak for the wind Which chips away at me. When pulling a potato, I see only the blue haze. When riding an escalator, I expect something orthopedic to happen. Sinking in quicksand, I’m a wild appaloosa. I fly into a rage at the sight of a double-decker bus, I want to eat my way through the Congo, I’m a double agent who tortures himself and still will not speak. I don’t know about the cold, But I know what I like I like tropical madness, I like to shake the coconuts And fingerprint the pythons,- fevers which make the children dance. I am sad without hands, I’m very sad without sleeves or pockets. Winter is coming to this city, I can’t speak for the wind which chips away at me.