I feel compelled to look up every time I hear an airplane


Sure I can fly,..euhm…it has wings, doesn’t it?


Don’t forget to keep the blue side of your artificial horizon up.


Fuel in the tanks is limited. Gravity is forever.


In aviation, everything is accomplished through teamwork, until something goes wrong. Then the pilot gets all the blame.


I hate to wake up and find my co-pilot asleep.


Gravity is bullshit and the earth sucks.


It’s said that two wrong things do not make a right, but two wrights do make an airplane.


When 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.


I love the smell of jet fuel in the morning.


The similarity between air traffic controllers and pilots?

-          If a pilot screws up, the pilot dies

-          If the ATC screws up, the pilot dies


The owner’s guide that comes with a $ 500 refrigerator makes more sense than the one that comes with a $ 50 million airliner.


The only thing that scares me about flying is the drive to the airport.


You start with a bag full of luck and an empty bag of experience. The trick is to fill the bag of experience before the bag of luck is empty.


Flying is not dangerous, crashing is dangerous.


There are three simple rules for making a smooth landing. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.


The trick lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.


Aviation is worse than dope.


The probability of survival is equal to the angle of arrival.


Dad, I think I left my heart up there.


Problems look mighty small from 150 miles up.


No one regards what is before his or her feet; we’ll look at the starts.


For most people, the sky is the limit, to those who love aviation, the sky is home.


The Wright brothers flew through the smoke screen of impossibility.


Caution: a cape does not enable user to fly!


ATC: "Climb like you're life depends on it ... because it does."


Pilot to ATC: "American Two-Twenty, Eneey, meeny, miney, moe, how do you hear my radio?"


Whether we call it sacrifice, or poetry, or adventure, it’s always the same voice that calls.


Why fly? Simple, I’m not happy unless there is some room between me and the ground.


Pilots track their lives by the number of hours in the air, as if any other kind of time isn’t worth noting.

19:50 Gepost door 3lke in Algemeen | Permalink | Commentaren (0) |  Facebook |

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