Could we make a car that can go 300 mph?
Her car was in full view.
But in the basket-car are some things I would like to keep with me.
The car warmed quickly and she fell asleep again.
I saw little Willie Swan in the car and he gave me a juicy pear.
She should be looking for a replacement vehicle, but having another car in the garage would only be a reminder that there was no one left to drive it.
Now, in most places you can smoke in your car, in your home, and in remote places away from civilized people.
The car was six years old now, but it was in good shape and still had low mileage.
Headlights flashed on the curtains briefly and a car door slammed.
Her stomach lurched again as she thought about the way the car had stopped.
The car rocked slightly with a gust of wind.
Alex had asked one of the men go into town and rent a car for them.
Focusing her attention on the car, she was acutely aware of the fact that he was still watching her.
He swung the car off the road and under an arch that read "Ambrosia Acres."
The car slid off the cliff before I got back.
Your car, a ball-point pen, your computer, a dolly, and so on.
A poor person with a six-year-old car today has more wealth than a poor person with a six-year-old car did back in 1911, for the simple reason that cars are so much better now.
The car remained solidly in place.
Not if you judge by the car and their clothes.
The clever cost savings idea of sleeping in the car didn't sound so safe right now.
After studying the car thoughtfully for a few minutes, he confidently assumed authority.
The car would be replaced by the insurance that was meant to replace her parents' car.
The problem for us was always that it is easier to get a car running than it is to fix the brakes.
He turned the car toward the Spencer home.
The car spun around at the bottom of the hill, spraying gravel in a wild circle.
The car abruptly halted its progress, slinging Lisa against the steering wheel with bone jarring force.
And then the car slowly tilted toward the gaping canyon below.
Possibly in answer to her prayers, the front of the car climbed into the air.
Oh my, you're fortunate the car didn't go over the edge with you in it!
The car was a loss anyway, but her purse and clothes would be ruined.
He didn't know the car was coming.
But my car is not a CD player, GPS navigation system, or air conditioner.
No more trying to retrace your steps to find your car keys; you can see where you left them by checking your GPS system records.
Remember the notion that the Internet wouldn't turn out to be only for one purpose—that while my car is clearly for taking me places, the Internet won't be for doing one single task, but many?
"I was thinking about my car today," she said.
Officer Lathum met him half way to the car and lifted a bushy gray brow.
The car made one more circle in the road and then lunged at the cliff.
Again, the materials to build the car are abundant; their cost is high because of technology deficiencies around retrieving and refining them, not an underlying rarity.
Katie arrived an hour later to pick up Jonathan and Destiny, and thirty minutes later Carmen and Alex were in the car headed for the airport.
Lathum walked beside him to their patrol car and picked up a tablet.
Dad was in a hurry to beat the storm, so she had said nothing as the car backed out of the drive.
Maneuvering the car around skillfully, he started back up the road.
My car, refrigerator, lawnmower, sprinkler system, smoke alarms, locks, and even my clothes.
By "make a car," I mean really make a car: dig iron ore out of the ground, smelt it to steel, wildcat for oil, find oil and refine it into gasoline, and so on.
I foresee a day when, on a Sunday afternoon, a family might drive (or actually be driven by their car) out to a farm to see where food comes from.
We embarked on these car projects with grandiose visions, many as unrealistic as they were ingenious.
Alex helped the man get the luggage into the trunk and then hurried to assist Carmen into the car before the man could touch her.
Double strollers, two cribs, two car seats... and what about the car?
They would all get together and wash her old car, winding up in a gleeful water fight.
The rear end of the car danced sideways, bouncing like a horse kicking up its heels.
At any time a gust of wind could send the car over the cliff.
Did you get her car off the cliff, dear?
Again she saw Nick's face in the car window.
They may have missed on specifics (such as each of us owning a personal jet pack and a flying car) but in general were dead-on.
Princip seized the opportunity and fired into the open car at a range of five feet, killing them both.
As soon as Leppich is ready, get together a crew of reliable and intelligent men for his car and send a courier to General Kutuzov to let him know.
My car has a CD player.
No one today would want a car built the old way.
At the car he opened the door for her.
She desperately fought the steering wheel for control, but the car weaved all over the road.
For a few moments the car hung there, the back half solidly on the ground, the front hanging precariously over the cliff.
Her first instinct was to scramble to the back of the bus and climb out.
Alex climbed into the car beside Carmen and placed his arm protectively on the back of the seat behind her neck.
Was there room for two car seats and a bumper seat in the back seat of her car?
Uncomfortable about riding in the car with him, she had offered to drive.
That car didn't look like much even when it was clean, but it was reliable.
The car had been shut up long enough that it smelled of old upholstery.
Paralyzed with fear, Lisa waited, expecting the car to slide over the edge.
The man lifted his hands gently from the trunk, and the rear wheels of the car lifted a few inches from the ground.
"I wonder how I can get my car back on the road," she mused, and felt relieved when his attention returned to the car.
I'll ride back to the house and get my car and a chain.
It would be dark by the time they got the car off the edge of the cliff.
He reached the passenger side of the car and held the door open for her.
It had been foolish to climb into the car with him.
He strode around to her side of the car and opened the door for her.
The windows in the car would be broken, and everything would get soaked.
The conductor helped her off the car and then the engineer started his train again, so that it puffed and groaned and moved slowly away up the track.
Just then his eye fell upon the lanterns and the can of kerosene oil which Zeb had brought from the car of his balloon, and he got a clever idea from those commonplace things.
Everywhere you turned, people were speculating about, or building models of, the "House of Tomorrow," the "Car of Tomorrow," or the "Workplace of Tomorrow."
The essence of my car is that it takes me places I want to go.
The Internet does not, like the car, have a single essence.
I would rather ride on earth in an ox cart, with a free circulation, than go to heaven in the fancy car of an excursion train and breathe a malaria all the way.
But if she moved, the car might start rocking again.
She counted the seconds in tense silence, waiting for the sound of an explosion, but the only sound was a car approaching from below.
His nod was noncommittal as he examined the place where the car had gone over.
The title of Ralph Nader's book was right: That car was Unsafe at Any Speed, at least with the master cylinder removed.
Sitting beside her in the car, I describe what I see from the window--hills and valleys and the rivers; cotton-fields and gardens in which strawberries, peaches, pears, melons, and vegetables are growing; herds of cows and horses feeding in broad meadows, and flocks of sheep on the hillside; the cities with their churches and schools, hotels and warehouses, and the occupations of the busy people.
"The island of Madagascar," she said, "Ma-da-gas-car," she repeated, articulating each syllable distinctly, and, not replying to Madame Schoss who asked her what she was saying, she went out of the room.
The driver was standing by the car smoking a cigarette as they emerged from the house.
Instead of sitting at his ease in a parlor car, he went jolting along through mud and mire, exposed to wind and weather.
Every year Santa Claus takes a journey over the world in a sleigh drawn by a strong and rapid steed called "Rudolph."
He could have forced her into the car... could have drug her into the woods.
Yet her need to reach the car was vital.