Quotes About Flight

The flight I'm most excited about is the one that takes me back to Northern Ireland to visit family and friends.

Into the air, over the valleys, under the stars, above a river, a pond, a road, flew Cecy. Invisible as new spring winds, fresh as the breath of clover rising from twilight fields, she flew.

Now that I've found the way to fly, which direction should I go into the night?

Lend me your wings, bird. I'll spread them and fly on the thermals.

I can't come, ' she said apologetically, 'I have forgotten how to fly.''I'll soon teach you again.''O Peter, don't waste the fairy dust on me.

Come to the edge.' 'We can't. We're afraid.' 'Come to the edge.' 'We can't. We will fall!' 'Come to the edge.' And they came. And he pushed them. And they flew.

The only thing that can combat fear is action. And there's two actions. There's fight and flight.

Violence is the instinctive response to fear.

Fear naturally quickens the flight of guilt.

Flight is essential, but I can't let my fear show.

Fear can give you urgent wings.

Extreme fear can neither fight nor fly.

Humanity gives, A Soul to the Universe, Wings to the Mind, Flight to the Imagination and Life to Everything!

Flying is simple; just throw yourself on the ground and miss.

Flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.

Days go by like birds in the sky.

Are Luisa and Valerie back?" "This afternoon, commercial flight. Luisa wanted to know, and I quote, 'whose nutsack she needs to gargle' to score a seat on the jet next time." "Woman has a way with words.

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

Fear can give you urgent wings.

Pesci, non siamo altro che pesci... branchie che si gonfiano e si chiudono... poi viene un gabbiano che dall'alto ci prende e mentre ci smembra ci fa volare, forse questo è l'amore.

Fly Dog, fly! I will be your missing eye, and you will be my wings.

I don't understand the whole thrilling verse, but I love the way poetry turns ordinary words into winged things that rise up and soar!

I think of my feather pen as something magical that still belongs to a wing. All I need is paper, ink, and the courage to let wild words soar.

It came out an overpowering story, hinting at sickly relatives dying in inaccessible parts of the island, cross-country journeys, and a noble, if exhausted Ramillies crawling gamely home to be persuaded by an adoring wife to snatch what rest he might before attempting the feat of endurance which lay before him as a passenger on an almost epic flight.