Aviation Love Quotes

Dreams are meant to become reality. Don’t ever think you can’t do something just because it’s difficult.

Dana taught me that the ability to grieve deeply also meant that a person had the capacity to love deeply, laugh deeply, live deeply -- and that this was a capacity to be cherished.

I still can't stop marveling that this same boy chose me; and I'm glad that I can't, for we should rejoice in being seen, needed. Loved.

He told me how he had first met her during the war and then lost her and won her back, and about their marriage and then about something tragic that had happened to them at St-Raphael about a year ago. This first version that he told me of Zelda . and a French naval aviator falling in love was truly a sad story and I believe it was a true story. Later he told me other versions of it as though trying them for use in a novel, but none was as sad as this first one and I always believed the first one, although any of them might have been true. They were better told each time; but they never hurt you the same way the first one did.

Unlike men, women got less sintimental as we aged, I was discovering. We cried enough, when we were young; vessels overflowing with the tears of everyone we loved.

Unfortunately, I'm drawn to a rare species of bad boy exterior/good guy interior. Give me a Harley Davidson and a pair of aviators and I'm weak in the knees." "I have a Harley," he blurted "I know

A closed heart only creates misery and sadness. An open heart creates love and happiness.

All family stories are important, just as all people are important, and they deserve to be passed along.

To every single person who lives their life with love, respect, and compassion for all. We can change the world. Together. #BeKindLoveHard

For despite the pain of loss, as time went on, the memory of those I'd loved warmed my heart more than grieved it.

A lot of the names in Talon reference other people or events. For example Amelia, the giant Eagle, was a “tip of my hat” to the extraordinary aviator Amelia Earhart. Both love(d) to fly!

Farewell, eyes that I loved! Do not blame me if the human body cannot go three days without water. I should never have believed that man was so truly the prisoner of the springs and freshets. I had no notion that our self-sufficiency was so circumscribed. We take it for granted that a man is able to stride straight out into the world. We believe that man is free. We never see the cord that binds him to wells and fountains, that umbilical cord by which he is tied to the womb of the world. Let man take but one step too many... and the cord snaps. Apart from your suffering, I have no regrets. All in all, it has been a good life. If I got free of this I should start right in again. A man cannot live a decent life in cities, and I need to feel myself live. I am not thinking of aviation. The airplane is a means, not an end. One doesn't risk one's life for a plane any more than a farmer ploughs for the sake of the plough. But the airplane is a means of getting away from towns and their bookkeeping and coming to grips with reality.

If you will tell me why, or how, people fall in love, I will tell you why, or how, I happened to take up aviation. – louise thaden, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette,

Would my son love me, when he was old enough to know what love meant? p 181

Certainly Gloria Steinem doesn’t seem very full of crusading zeal anymore. I caught sight of her willowy figure and aviator glasses at the party. In a group of other women who surrounded her I heard her say, “We must become the men we wanted to marry.” I loved that.

And that was, finally, why I loved him -- because he never complained when I had a headache or changed my mind about something. He never shut down when I revealed my fears, my worries. He never tried to make me feel less, weaker, than he was -- because he shared his own emotions with me, as well.

In the quiet, I talked to my friend, who happened to be a T-33, and asked point-blank the questions I could never answer. 'What are you, airplane? What is it about you and all your wide family that has made so many men leave all they know and come to you? Why do they waste good human love and concern on you who are nothing but so many pounds of steel and aluminum and gasoline and hydraulic fluid?

Then I began writing. It was about a German aviator in World War I. Baron Von Himmlen. He flew a red Fokker. And he was not popular with his fellow fliers. He didn't talk to them. He drank alone and he flew alone. He didn't bother with women, although they all loved him. He was above that. He was too busy. He was busy shooting Allied plans out of the sky. Already he had shot down 110 and he war wasn't over. His red Fokker, which he referred to as the "October Bird of Death," was known everywhere. Even the enemy ground troops knew him as he often flew low over them, taking their gunfire and laughing, dropping bottles of champagne to them suspended from little parachutes. Baron Von Himmlen was never attacked by less than five Allied planes at a time. He was an ugly man with scars on his face, but he was beautiful if you looked long enough -- it was in the eyes, his style, his courage, his fierce aloneness.

And I knew, as I had always known but somehow forgotten to remember in these past years, that I could never have done it, that no one else could ever have done it. That I would never know anyone as brave, as astonishing -- as frustrating, too, but that was, I was forced to admit finally, part of his charm -- as the slightly stooped elderly gentleman standing beside me in the shadows, listening while schoolchildren read of his exploits. The man who was, for better, for worse, my husband. The man who I loved, in spite of himself.

Concord Academy. Since leaving home, John’s sister had decided that she, too, wished to take to the skies. “People always think of John running up to welcome his father’s helicopter,” Pierre Salinger said. “They forget Caroline was on the White House lawn waiting for Daddy, too.” Moreover, JFK’s campaign plane was named after her—something she took considerable pride in as a little girl. “Caroline had been flying for years before John was even born,” George Plimpton said. “Flying was second nature to her, and it made perfect sense that she’d want to give it a try.” As enthusiastic as John was about aviation, it was their stepbrother who took them up in planes

Zero percent? Zero percent?” Chen said loudly to himself, rapidly sober. “Who are these two bastards then? Where are the real pilots, and where is my aircraft?” Chen slammed his hand down on the metal desk, and the booming sound reverberated throughout the hangar. Maintainers looked in the office direction once again but kept repairing Black Scorpion’s left wing.

America didn’t want war. Both major political parties still supported neutrality. The aviation pioneer Charles Lindbergh argued in popular radio speeches that it would be foolish and hypocritical to fight Germany. He said America had no standing to accuse the Nazis of aggression and barbarism because America had sometimes been aggressive and barbaric itself . Later he argued that American Jews were a “danger to this country” on account of their “ownership and influence in our motion pictures , our press, our radio and our government .” Lindbergh became the public face and champion of an antiwar group called the America First Committee. “America First,” a campaign slogan of Woodrow Wilson, had been adopted by the Ku Klux Klan in the 1920s. Within a year the America First Committee was holding rallies at Madison Square Garden.

The aviation pioneer Charles Lindbergh argued in popular radio speeches that it would be foolish and hypocritical to fight Germany. He said America had no standing to accuse the Nazis of aggression and barbarism because America had sometimes been aggressive and barbaric itself. Later he argued that American Jews were a “danger to this country” on account of their “ownership and influence in our motion pictures, our press, our radio and our government.

This is my favorite part of writing a book. It takes so many people to make the magic happen, and without all of you, I couldn’t get it done. Thank you to my pilot friends for looking over stuff for accuracy. You guys so love to talk planes; it’s a blast to do my research. Thanks to Stephy for

A few years ago, I led an expedition to return to Mount Everest, the mountain I had climbed aged 23, a mountain where I had risked everything and survived - just. I had always held a secret dream to return and attempt to fly over the mountain in a small one-man paramotor - like a paraglider, only with a backpack engine strapped to your body. At the time, the highest altitude that one had been flown was around 17,000 feet (5,180 metres). But being an enthusiast (and an optimist!), I reckoned we shouldn’t just aim to break the record by a few feet, I thought we should go as high as it was possible to go, and in my mind that meant flying over the height of Mount Everest. This in turn meant we needed to build a machine capable of flying to over 29,000 feet (8,840 metres). Most of the people we spoke to about this thought a) we were crazy, and b) it was technically impossible. What those naysayers hadn’t factored in was the power of yes, and specifically the ability to build a team capable of such a mission. This meant harnessing the brilliance of my good friend Gilo Cardozo, a paramotor engineer, a born enthusiast, and a man who loves to break the rules - and to say yes. Gilo was - and is - an absolute genius aviation engineer who spends all his time in his factory, designing and testing crazy bits of machinery. When people told us that our oxygen would freeze up in minus 70°, or that at extreme altitudes we would need such a heavy engine to power the machine that it would be impossible to take off, or that even if we managed to do it, we would break our legs landing at such speed, Gilo’s response was: ‘Oh, it’ll be great. Leave it with me.’ No matter what the obstacle, no matter what the ‘problem’, Gilo always said, ‘We can do this.’ And after months in his workshop, he did eventually build the machine that took us above the height of Everest. He beat the naysayers, he built the impossible and by the Grace of God we pulled it off - oh, and in the process we raised over $2.5 million for children’s charities around the world. You see, dreams can come true if you stick to them and think big. So say yes - you never know where it will lead. And there are few limits to how high you just might soar.

Most of us, most of the time, live in blissful ignorance of what a small elite, heroic group of Americans are doing for us night and day. As we speak, all over the globe, American Sailors and Submariners and Aviators are doing something very dangerous. People say, ‘Well, it can’t be too dangerous because there are no wrecks.’ But the reason we don’t have more accidents is that these are superb professionals; the fact that they master the dangers does not mean the dangers aren’t real. Right now, somewhere around the world, young men are landing aircraft on the pitching decks of aircraft carriers – at night! You can’t pay people to do that; they do it out of love of country, of adventure, of the challenge. We all benefit from it, and the very fact that we don’t have to think about it tells you how superbly they’re doing their job — living on the edge of danger so the rest of us need not think about, let alone experience, danger.” George Will commenting after the loss of the Space Shuttle Challenger, January, 1986

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

I admire you.” I shoot him an awed glance and shake my head. “How you so easily dismiss the attention.” Then I loosen the elastic band on my hair and pull it to my sides to use it as a curtain to hide my face. He watches me in confusion. I can feel people staring at us now, and uncomfortably, I grab the aviators he just pulled out and slip them on my face. He looks down at me with a half smile and eyes narrowed in speculation. “Want a fake mustache with that?” “I’m good.” I grin. I follow him to the car and we don’t bother to set the bag in the trunk. The car is super spacious anyway. He opens the door before Otis can fully make it and we ease inside. “Rachel . . .” He falls sober, plucking off the aviators. I’m smiling, but I also feel ashamed. “Sin, I’m sorry.” I drop my face. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to the attention you get.” “Don’t notice it. Don’t give it even a moment’s thought. I never do.” “Hmm.” My mouth twists wryly. “It’s not only the attention, but wondering what lies they’ll put out . . . having no control over that.” I feel my heart squeeze a little as our eyes meet, him sitting across from me, broad and muscular and drop-dead gorgeous. And I admit the closest thing I can say to I love you. “It’s hard when everyone stares at the man you want, and you want him to want nobody but you.” He simply says two words that melt me. “He does.

I’ve learned that sometimes in life a person chooses love, and sometimes love chooses you. It’s not a choice that you get to make no matter what people might say.” “If it’s not a choice, then what is it?” she asked. “Simply put, it’s fate,” he told her.

Lord, Your faithful love reaches to heaven, Your faithfulness to the skies."...Does your love reach this far, God? And if it extends to heaven and beyond...why can't it seem to find me? "It's beautiful" I said, my voice clouded wroth embarrassment. "It's more than that." He watched the ocean below. "It's like God painted it himself, then spun it into motion." Beckett angled hos head toward me, took his aviators off, and let his eyes burn into mine. "This is Ireland, Finley. It's rough. It's wild. And it's holy.

Still, we all found it easier to love and admire him when he was gone. The

Love and Marriage Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. EPHESIANS 5:21 NIV Young couples often approach marriage thinking that their love will survive anything. Then when the first trial tests their faith and endurance, their love crumbles. Author and aviator Antoine de Saint-Exupéry wrote, “Love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction.” Such is the goal of a couple committed to Christ. Admit it: marriage is work. Yet God unites two people for a common purpose—to lift one up when the other falls, to give instead of receive, to exercise the art of compromise and understanding. On the other hand, a loveless marriage is one based on self-absorption or selfishness on the part of one or both individuals. The love that once attracted us to our spouse isn’t the love that sustains our marriage. Rather, God’s love prevails in the lives of the couple who choose to, in mutual submission, place Christ first. The above scripture indicates that submission applies to both men and women, yet Paul goes on to exhort women to submit to their husbands—for as a woman submits or respects her husband, he, in turn, loves his wife (Ephesians 5:22–28). The result? A man and woman united in faith, traveling in the same direction. Father, help me become the helpmate You intended. Guide me to live a submissive life to You first and then my husband. May we both follow Your lead, not our own. Amen.

It was to be the longest flight I had ever made in my young life and one of the most interesting. Having always been interested in the magic of aviation I knew that the DC-6B, I boarded was an approximately 75 seat, trans-ocean, Pan Am Clipper. It would also be the last long distance propeller driven commercial airliner. The only difference between it and the DC-6A was that it didn’t have a large cargo door in its side, and it was also approximately 5 feet longer than the DC-6A. 1955 was a good year and people felt relatively safe with Dwight D. Eisenhower in the White House. “I like Ike” had been his political motto since before he assumed office on January 20, 1953, even many Democrats held him in high esteem for his military service and winning the war in Europe. Eisenhower obtained a truce in Korea and worked diligently trying to ease the tensions of the Cold War. He did however fail to win over Georgy Malenkov, or Nikolai Bulganin who succeeded him, as Premier of the Soviet Union in February of 1955. As a moderate Conservative he left America, as the strongest and most productive nation in the world, but unfortunately because of his lack of diplomacy and love of golf, failed to prevent Cuba from slipping into the communist camp. WFLA inaugurated its broadcasting in the Tampa Bay area on February 14, 1955. The most popular music was referred to as good music, and although big bands were at their zenith in 1942, by 1947 and music critics will tell you that their time had passed. However, Benny Goodman was only 46 in 1955, Tommy Dorsey was 49 and Count Basie was 51. So, in many sheltered quarters they were still in vogue and perhaps always will be. I for one had my Hi-Fidelity 33 1/3 rpm multi stacked record player and a stash of vinyl long play recordings shipped to Africa. For me time stood still as I listened and entertained my friends. Some years later I met Harry James at the Crystal Ballroom in Disneyland. Those were the days…. Big on the scene was “Rhythm in Blues,” an offshoot of widespread African-American music, that had its beginnings in the ‘40s. It would soon become the window that Rock and Roll would come crashing through.

You can’t go home again,” wrote Thomas Wolfe, and he might as well have been writing about the newly minted Imperial Japanese Navy aviator, resplendently clad in blue and brass, returning home to visit his family. Of course his parents and siblings were overjoyed to see him, and he them. He had done them a great honor, lifting the status of his entire clan in the eyes of neighbors, colleagues, and friends. He was bigger, stronger, tougher, older, wiser. But his homecoming was inevitably poignant, and more than a little strange. He might have dreamed of home every night he was away, clasping it in his imagination as a sanctuary from the brutality of his tormentors and the unremitting toil of his training. Once there, however, he was inevitably taken aback by the comfort, the ease, the disorder, the aimlessness. The reality of home had steadily diverged from the image he had carried in his mind. It contrasted too sharply with the harsh, purposeful life to which he had grown accustomed. He loved his family as much as he ever had, and they loved him as much as they ever had, but he was aghast at how much space had grown between them. They could never fully understand what he had done and endured, or what he had become. That was a secret known only to his classmates, his fellow survivors, who had shared in the long crucible of his training—the fatigue, the humiliations, the beatings, the deprivations, the chronic dread of expulsion, the ecstasy of flight, and the inconceivable joy he had felt upon receiving those blessed wings. He might never admit it, but his fellow airmen were closer to him now than his own kin. He belonged with them. He could not go home again because now the navy was his home.

Her name was Sapienas. She was born from an interracial couple; her mother was part geofus and part cryo, and her father was part aviator and part therma, meaning that she was an extraterrestrial of all four races. As she was racially identified by all four, she was diligent in trying to find the cultural identities of each race. Sapienas used a web search to read about the characteristics of each race, only to discover the possibility that she was a representation of not just one, but all four stereotypes: for being part cryo, she lacked genuine passion, emotion, and love. For being part therma, she was negligent of preventing global warming and her existence only exacerbated the problem. For being part aviator, she lacked incisiveness. And, for being part geofus, she lacked technological expertise, couldn’t manipulate currency, and had a high chance of being illiterate.

You can do as much leadership development programmes, seminars or workshops, if you don't like people, if you don't love your team, you will not enjoy being leader. Leading is about people and their wellbeing the first foundation to the organisations wellbeing.

I dragged my gear down to the shore and saw the submariners, the way they stood aloof and silent, watching their pigboat with loving eyes. They are alone in the Navy. I admired the PT boys. And I often wondered how the aviators had the courage to go out day after day and I forgave their boasting. But the submariners! In the entire fleet they stand apart.

Rubbing her eyes, Lindsey Helm slowly stood up from her post at the nurses’ station in the hospital and walked down the quiet hallway to the back room to organize supplies. Most nights, she loved the quietness of the calm hospital. This wasn’t one of them.

The 68-page first issue of Calling All Girls contained four comic stories—an 8-pager on Queen Elizabeth (the mother of the current queen); a 9-pager on famed author Osa Johnson, “the famed jungle adventuress,” as the story so quaintly dubbed her; a fictional 7-pager on Judy Wing, Air Hostess No. 1 (aviation themes were huge in the early years of comics, just as they were in all of popular culture); and a fictional 8-pager on the teenage adventures of the Yorktown Younger Set, which “lives in a town like yours. The other half of the first issue contained text stories of a wide variety, with an astonishing amount of reading material for the teen girl’s dime. There was a 4-page story devoted to Connie Martin, a Nancy Drew knockoff; a 4-pager devoted to circus girls; a 3-pager on Gloria Jean herself; a 3-pager by publisher George Hecht on “13 ways girls can help in the national defense”; a 2-pager on manners; a 3-pager by best-selling sports novelist John R. Tunis on women in sports; a 2-pager on grooming; a 4-pager on a fictional female boater; a 2-pager on films; a 2-pager on fashion, with delightful drawings; a page on fashion accessories; and a 2-pager on cooking, by the famed food writer Cecily Brownstone. This issue gave girls an awful lot of reading, some of it inspirational and showing they could be more than “just a girl,” as the boys in Tubby’s clubhouse used to call Little Lulu and her friends a decade later in their Dell Comics adventures. The most intriguing aspect of Calling All Girls is that it approached schoolgirls not as boy-crazy or male-dependent, but as interesting individuals in their own right. The ensuing issues of Calling All Girls expanded on this theme. This was definitely a mini “feminist manifesto” for teens!

Another visitor was aviator Tommy Sopwith who flew to Brookfield in his helicopter. Grabbing white sheets from the bedrooms, we laid them out as markers in the field when we hear the choppers engines roar above us. Tommy invited us aboard for a joy ride and suggested playing a surprise visit to some friends only three or four miles away. But a navigational error on Dad's part brought us into a stranger's back garden. An elderly couple having afternoon tea were astonished at the sight of Peter Sellers climbing out of a helicopter on their lawn aking for directions.

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth, And danced the skies on laughter silvered wings; Sunward I’ve climbed . . . and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of.” Beauvoir looked over and saw the chief, his eyes closed and his head tilted back, but his lips moving, repeating a phrase. “Up, up the long delirious burning blue, I’ve topped the wind-swept heights . . . Where never lark, or even eagle flew.” “Where’s that from?” asked Beauvoir. “A poem called ‘High Flight’ by a young Canadian aviator in the Second World War.” “Really? He must’ve loved flying. Bees love flying. Can cover long distances for food, if they have to, but they stay close to the hive if they can.” “He died,” said Gamache. “Pardon?” “Says here the poet was killed. Shot down. The poem was quoted by President Reagan after the Challenger disaster.” But he’d lost Beauvoir to the bees again.

Stories from Beyond the Sea – “I could not believe my good luck!” from Page 31 “Not only was she stunningly beautiful but she was also witty, flirtatious and at the same time understanding and loving, I couldn’t believe my good fortune and did all I could to convince her to stay with me in the United States. After getting married to my young wife Ursula, in a small town in upstate New York, and thinking that the US Navy would be a better option than returning to a life at sea on merchant ships, I took the navy exam to become a student pilot. As a commissioned officer with the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade (LTJR) I enjoyed many benefits that the aviation cadets didn’t get, including having basic living quarters. Having had some prior experience flying the right hand seat in a DC-3 when I was in Liberia, I took to aviation, my new endeavor, like a duck to water.

for we should rejoice in being seen, needed. Loved.