Petrol Queue Quotes

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Together with all this there was something of the evil atmosphere of war. The town had a gaunt untidy look, roads and buildings were in poor repair, the streets at night were dimly lit for fear of air — raids, the shops were mostly shabby and half-empty. Meat was scarce and milk practically unobtainable, there was a shortage of coal, sugar, and petrol, and a really serious shortage of bread. Even at this period the bread-queues were often hundreds of yards long. Yet so far as one could judge the people were contented and hopeful. There was no unemployment, and the price of living was still extremely low; you saw very few conspicuously destitute people, and no beggars except the gipsies. Above all, there was a belief in the revolution and the future, a feeling of having suddenly emerged into an era of equality and freedom. Human beings were trying to behave as human beings and not as cogs in the capitalist machine.
George Orwell (Homage to Catalonia)
They should have killed for water, the men and women of the CWD chawls. People have been known to kill for less: religion; language; the flag; the colour of a person's skin or his caste; breaking the queue at a petrol pump.
Kiran Nagarkar (Ravan & Eddie)
So they went on walking around the streets and sitting on the cage terraces. On the whole, they were not cowardly, joking with each other more often than bewailing their fate, and pretending to accept with good humour discomforts that would clearly not last. Appearances were saved. Yet around the end of the month . . . more serious transformations altered the face of the town. First of all the Prefect took steps to deal with traffic and supplies. Supplies were limited and petrol rationed. Measures were even taken to save electricity. Only essential goods would be brought by road or air to Oran. As a result, traffic decreased progressively until it almost disappeared altogether, some shops selling luxury goods down overnight and others hung 'sold out' notices in their windows, while queues of customers formed in front of their doors. . . For the time being they were not yet unemployed, just on leave.
Albert Camus (The Plague)