Stole A Bike Quotes

I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn't work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.

As the comedian Emo Phillips once said, “When I was a child, I used to pray to God for a bicycle. But then I realized that God doesn’t work in that way—so I stole a bike and prayed for forgiveness!

When I was a kid I used to pray every night for a new bike. Then I realised that The Lord doesn't work that way, so I stole one and asked Him to forgive me.

I asked god for a bike, but i know god doesn't work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.

When I was a child, I used to pray to God for a bicycle. But then I realized that God doesn’t work in that way—so I stole a bike and prayed for forgiveness!

I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn’t work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness. -Al Pacino

Can you pick me up on Washington Road in Mount Lebo, actually? I got here and them some kids stole my bike." "Quinn, your life story is starting to turn into a documentary that people would walk out of because it's both too sad and too slow.

She spoke into his ear. “You just mugged a guy. Stole his motorcycle.” “Not how I see it.” “How do you see it?” “Colonel Dai just bought a used dirt bike in Vietnam. I was kind of the middleman.” “Tell yourself whatever works, Violator.

You did too! You stole my bike, A-HOLE!" I yell out. Jeez, I'm like a Chatty Cathy Doll: just pull my string and I'll say, "You stole my bike, A-HOLE!

Lambretta It doesn't get much better Though I'm trying to forget her That girl on that Lambretta Stole my heart. But my feelings just got fonder As she disappeared off yonder But I couldn't get my Honda Bike to start. So I'll admit defeat It's not partial, it's complete 'Cos I'll never get to meet That work of art. Now I've ceased to be a suitor I imagine that'll suit her An' I 'ope her rotten scooter Falls apart.

the city is cold and hard like that bike I stole from your front yard.

Each time someone stole a bike from our porch (three times, by my count), or broke into her car and took the loose change, or stole a delivery, she’d tell me, like a general giving his troops marching orders, “There is nothing lower than the poor stealing from the poor. It’s hard enough as it is. We sure as hell don’t need to make it even harder on each other.” Youngest

Canadian comedian, Emo Phillips, said he used to pray every night for a bike until he realised that the Lord doesn’t always work that way, so he stole one and then prayed for forgiveness.

I loved you enough to bug you about where you were going, with whom and what time you would get home. I loved you enough to insist you buy a bike with your own money even though we could afford it. I loved you enough to be silent and let you discover your friend was a creep. I loved you enough to make you return a Milky Way with a bite out of it to the drugstore and confess, “I stole this.” I loved you enough to stand over you for two hours while you cleaned your bedroom, a job that would have taken me 15 minutes. I loved you enough to say, “Yes, you can go to Disney World on Mother’s Day.” I loved you enough to let you see anger, disappointment, disgust and tears in my eyes. I loved you enough not to make excuses for your lack of respect or your bad manners. I loved you enough to admit that I was wrong and ask for your forgiveness. I loved you enough to ignore what every other mother did or said. I loved you enough to let you stumble, fall, hurt and fail. I loved you enough to let you assume the responsibility for your own actions at age 6, 10 or 16. I loved you enough to figure you would lie about the party being chaperoned but forgave you for it—after discovering I was right. I loved you enough to accept you for what you are, not what I wanted you to be. But, most of all, I loved you enough to say no when you hated me for it. That was the hardest part of all.

During those witching hours growing up in 1970s Los Angeles, I banded together with other untethered children. We dared each other to jump from my second-story bedroom window into thick ivy below. We roamed the neighborhood on our bikes, stole candy from the supermarket, and tried out the confessional box at St. Bernard’s even though we weren’t Catholic.

Rey thought you’d like the pink ones better, seeing as you stole her ‘Barbie bike,’ as she calls it.” Rey

Look, I don’t mean to make light of your midlife crisis or the fact that your drunk dad stole your bike when you were eight years old and you still haven’t gotten over it, but when it comes down to it, if you feel crappy it’s because your brain is telling you that there’s a problem that’s unaddressed or unresolved.

When I was a kid, I used to pray every night for a new bike. Then I realized, the Lord doesn’t work that way. So I just stole one and asked Him for forgiveness. — Emo Philips