Harley Davidson owners don’t need therapy. Have you ever seen a bike outside the psychiatrist’s office?

I play golf and ride my motorcycle – my Harley – around the hills of California.

People have life goals, and I just want to ride faster.

I have a Harley and a Bourget, which I enjoy taking into the countryside.

I’ve had Harleys on both sides of the Atlantic, so I’m a lover of a Harley motorcycle.

If a man loves his bike, he’ll love his woman too.

What’s better than a full gas tank? Nothing.

I’m a pretty informal guy. I ride a Harley.

There are two types of people in this world. The first type owns a Harley Davidson and the second type is sad.

The Harley’s got a little too much torque when it comes to jumping.

Only a biker knows why a dog sticks his head out of a car window.

I love my Harley Davidson motorcycle at the cost of my life, and there’s nothing that I can do about it.

Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations.

People call me crazy for being a woman who loves Harley Davidson. I call myself a happy woman.

I don’t always sit and listen to my Harley, but when I do, so does my whole neighborhood.

If you haven’t gone on a road trip with your buddies on a motorcycle, you’re missing out on life.

I told him it was me or the bike. That was the longest wheelie up the street I’ve ever seen.

Whenever I look at my Harley Davidson, I have tears in my eyes because it’s just so beautiful.

You don’t buy a Harley with your mind, you buy it with your heart and your balls.