This isn't life in the fast lane, it's life in the oncoming traffic.

I'm one of the blind alleys off the main road of procreation.

But the fast lane too gets to be a rut.

I can't stand it to think my life is going so fast and I'm not really living it.

This is the fast lane, folks...and some of us like it here.

To-ing fro-ing never knowing
if I'm coming or I'm going
living in the fast lane
but our heartbeat's slowing

Most Americans do not live in a flood plain. Most Americans don’t live where a highway might have torn through and disrupted their lives. Most American kids don’t go to a school across from a chemical plant, but there are many communities where that is a reality.

When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

I'm not gonna live my life on one side of an ampersand.

He who is off the course, the more swiftly he runs is the more distant from the goal and, therefore, the more unhappy. It is better to limp in the way than run out of the way.

This life is a one-way street.

When you're cruising down the road in the fast lane and you lazily sail past a few hard-driving cars and are feeling pretty pleased with yourself and then accidently change down from fourth to first instead of third thus making your engine leap out of your hood in a rather ugly mess, it tends to throw you off stride in much the same way that this remark threw Ford Prefect off his.

We stand now where two roads diverge. But unlike the roads in Robert Frost's familiar poem, they are not equally fair. The road we have long been traveling is deceptively easy, a smooth superhighway on which we progress with great speed, but at its end lies disaster. The other fork of the road-the one "less traveled by"-offers our last, our only chance to reach a destination that assures the preservation of our earth. The choice, after all, is ours to make.

I saw a sign that said "Left Lane Closed." So I went someplace else.