A machine may be driven as recklessly at ten or twelve miles an hour as at thirty.

In a given distance more horses can be frightened by a slow machine than a fast.

It is all in the manner of driving.
Speed is a matter of temperament.

In England, the people and local boards cannot adopt measures stringent enough to prevent speeding; in Ireland, the people and local authorities line the highways, urging the chauffeur to let his machine out; in America, we are suspended between English prudence and repression on the one side and Irish impulsiveness and recklessness on the other.
The Englishman will not budge; the Irishman cries, "Let her go." Speaking of the future of the automobile, the Professor said,-- "Cupid will never use the automobile, the little god is too conservative; fancy the dainty sprite with oil-can and waste instead of bow and arrow.

I can see him with smut on the end of his mischievous nose and grease on the seat of the place where his trousers ought to be.