Flying Quotes - Page 3

It had always been a breathtaking view, the kind that made him inhale and forget to exhale . . .

My mind held fast to that hot morning and the moment of coolness in the cabin. I could so easily re-enact every moment. Again-why had I gone back to exchange the beautiful charts at that precise moment? How many times would I, in whatever innocence, be compelled to choose the right time?

Flying is not only the art of the birds, but it is also the art of the artists!

Cara: *Flies*Gen: What? I don't have wings!Cara: Ofcourse not! You're a boy.

And the voice spoke even more deliberately: '...but remember what is under the ocean of clouds: eternity.'And suddenly that tranquil world, the world of such simple harmony that you discover as you rise above the clouds, took on an unfamiliar quality in my eyes. All that gentleness became a trap. In my mind's eye I saw that vast white trap laid out, right under my feet. Beneath it reigned neither the restlessness of men nor the living tumult and motion of cities, as one might have thought, but a silence that was even more absolute, a more final peace. That viscous whiteness was turning before my eyes into the boundary between the real and the unreal, between the known and the unknowable. And I was already beginning to sense that a spectacle has no meaning except when seen through a culture, a civilization, a professional craft.

Hush,” I said. “I’m here, and I’m not letting you out of my sight anytime soon so keep holding me tight.” I looked down, a little more than afraid of plummeting hundreds of feet down.- Breena to Kian, Silver Frost

To hear never-heard sounds, To see never-seen colors and shapes, To try to understand the imperceptible Power pervading the world; To fly and find pure ethereal substances That are not of matter But of that invisible soul pervading reality. To hear another soul and to whisper to another soul; To be a lantern in the darkness Or an umbrella in a stormy day; To feel much more than know. To be the eyes of an eagle, slope of a mountain; To be a wave understanding the influence of the moon; To be a tree and read the memory of the leaves; To be an insignificant pedestrian on the streets Of crazy cities watching, watching, and watching. To be a smile on the face of a woman And shine in her memory As a moment saved without planning.

The elders say- difficult to prove- that winged creatures also dream. The birds are lovers of heights, always searching out landing spots, never constant here at the foot of the human race. 'It's that they discovered a magical advantage...' they say, 'the sound of silence.'At the foot of the clouds the raindrops come earlier, it's true, and the silence of the sky is something unattainable for those who don't fly- we have never experimented. The dream of the birds was that man of them headed for a land where they experienced a similar magic to that lived by them.In the final analysis, music is the only human sound similar to that of silence.

At last the magic caught, and she managed to vault clumsily onto it before it trundled into the night sky as gracefully as a duck with one wing missing.

Ian looked skyward to see the firedrake soaring overhead. Its mass was a black deluge, an eclipse of aberrant origins, and its wings were tautly wound, like a spider’s web. Scales that shown like bejeweled armor glistened upon its body. Its tail crashed against the air; the storm surge of an impetuous sea. The shadow it cast was an aperture of dementia that ripped asunder the sanity of those who watched. Astride the beast’s spine, rode a figure that resembled a man, but with such grandeur at his disposal, appeared a living god.

I never sleep on the plane. I have to be awake and using my mind power to keep it in the air

Okay, so, flying,” I started, taking a deep breath and focusing on the thing I loved most in the world. “Flying is … great. It feels great when you’re doing it. It’s fun. Pure freedom. There’s nothing better.”Dylan smiled, a slow, easy smile that seemed to light up his whole face.“So the first thing we’re going to do,” I told him, “is push you off the roof.

I wish I could wrap up the glitter star-green of this moment and hand it to you like an angel gift. Give you the heat lightning flying in jagged silence over the distant mountains. And the smell of September prairie grass and the even fainter scent of October pine now descending . . .

Either way, the view stabbed its way into his chest, as if it were trying to finish him off before he even landed.

Mine is a quest, for a mouthful of skies.!

Climbing is as close as we can come to flying.

Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.

Hundreds of butterflies flitted in and out of sight like short-lived punctuation marks in a stream of consciousness without beginning or end.

It was exciting to be off on a journey she had looked forward to for months. Oddly, the billowing diesel fumes of the airport did not smell like suffocating effluence, it assumed a peculiar pungent scent that morning, like the beginning of a new adventure, if an adventure could exude a fragrance.

Where's Izzy?" cried Alice. "I'm right here!" Izzy was heard, but there was no sight of her floating friend. "Izzy's invisible!" yelled Melanie."Invisible and flying!" Colleen added nervously.

Blessed are those that know the path out of their carnal flesh, for they shall attain intuition.

There are powers far beyond us, plans far beyond what we could have ever thought of, visions far more vast than what we can ever see on our own with our own eyes, there are horizons long gone beyond our own horizons. This is courage- to throw away what is our own that is limited and to thrust ourselves into the hands of these higher powers- God and Destiny.To do this is to abide in the realm of the eternal, to walk in the path of the everlasting to follow in the footprints of God and demi-gods. The hardest part for man is the letting go. For some reason, he thinks himself big enough to know and to see what's good for him. But in the letting go........is found freedom. In the letting go........ is found the flight!

You don’t see someone flying and you begin to bite yourself for not being able to do that. You do what you can.

There is none other like me. There is none other like her. We are unbelievable, impossible. I fly as high as the Heavens which cast me out. I have run out my comet's course: she is the world, I have sought out. Round her I have cast the loop of my orbit, and am held fast and safe; she is my Sea of Tranquility, my Milky Way, bearded with Berenice's Hair. I am a new constellation, pegged out in the sky. I am joy. Complete. For ever.

We fly, but we have not 'conquered' the air. Nature presides in all her dignity, permitting us the study and the use of such of her forces as we may understand. It is when we presume to intimacy, having been granted only tolerance, that the harsh stick fall across our impudent knuckles and we rub the pain, staring upward, startled by our ignorance.

I’m taking the leap, I’m learning to fly.

Flying might not be all plain sailing, but the fun of it is worth the price.

Feelings came alive in Vicki for which the earth and sea had never taught her names.

He screamed in agony as large black wings erupted from his back - each had four large talons on it.