Stand clear of the closing doors, please. Everybody, the doors are closing, which means they will move. Please step away from the parts of the wall that are capable of sliding. Are you where the doors should be? If you are not a door, please step aside.

Please make way; the doors are closing. They can cause injury, and injury is strictly against M.T.A. policy.

Please move your bike away from the closing doors. Person who is army crawling into the train: I can see you, and I have to admit that you look badass, but the doors are closing. Sir, your huge tub of snack mix can’t be there. Ma’am, that goat will be pulverized by these powerful doors.

The doors are closing, after which you will either be inside the train or outside the train. Your crutches might be on one side while you are on the other. Your head on the platform and your body inside the train. Either scenario would be unfortunate.

If you’re asking, “Are the doors closing?,” the answer is yes. They are closing and you must not straddle the platform and the train. This is known as “the devil’s game,” and you will pay the ultimate price.

The doors are closing, perhaps on your baby carriage. You should be concerned about your baby because the doors do not have such concerns. The doors know no empathy. They will not listen to you. They are sheets of hard metal and I control them.

All doors are closing. You might be an earl, but it doesn’t matter. Your noble birth cannot save you from these doors. Your bejewelled scepter can’t stop these doors. Just try and see what happens.

As of now, the doors are closing. To all the door punks who think they’re too cool to stand clear: you are taunting powers greater than you can imagine.

Avoid the closing doors, especially you tourists. This is not Canada.

Closing is what these doors are doing. To the mariachi band currently blocking them: You fools! How do you not understand the majesty of the doors? You face utter ruination.

So hear me: The doors are closing. They are completely and totally closing. Not one of your technological devices can stay these heinous doors. Ask Siri to hold open the doors at your (and her) peril.

You must heed the warning that the doors are closing. They shut upon all souls. Unless you are a stage-fifteen wizard under official M.T.A. employ, you have no purchase in the realm of the doors. They will vanquish you and all whom you love.

O, how the doors are closing! Closing closing closing. You feel them closing—not only in the vibrating, anxious air but in the fearful screams inside your head. Covering your ears does nothing. You will always hear the doors.

Be aware of the closing doors. Or be unaware, and perish.

The doors have closed. Will they open again? Yes, at West Fourth Street.