Wind Resistance Quotes

Storms make the oak grow deeper roots.

If only gravity were working, the path would be symmetrical, it is the wind resistance that produces the tragic curve.

Wind, weather, everything comes into play when you're in the kicking game - how far the ball is going to traveling in the air, where it's going to travel with the wind.

It was a lot to get used to, especially in warm-ups with the wind all over the place. As the meet went on it steadied out, so I was able to get some good looks to go back and train from.

Well, gentlemen, do you believe in the possibility of aerial locomotion by machines heavier than air? ... You ask yourselves doubtless if this apparatus, so marvellously adapted for aerial locomotion, is susceptible of receiving greater speed. It is not worth while to conquer space if we cannot devour it. I wanted the air to be a solid support to me, and it is. I saw that to struggle against the wind I must be stronger than the wind, and I am.

You can see the goldenrod, that most tenacious and pernicious and beauteous of all New England flora, bowing away from the wind like a great and silent congregation.

An oak and a reed were arguing about their strength. When a strong wind came up, the reed avoided being uprooted by bending and leaning with the gusts of wind. But the oak stood firm and was torn up by the roots.

A bird maintains itself in the air by imperceptible balancing, when near to the mountains or lofty ocean crags; it does this by means of the curves of the winds which as they strike against these projections, being forced to preserve their first impetus bend their straight course towards the sky with divers revolutions, at the beginning of which the birds come to a stop with their wings open, receiving underneath themselves the continual buffetings of the reflex courses of the winds.

My sky diving experience was spectacular, to say the least. The number of safety measures and repeated cross checks make it safer. The team did not let us jump alone, as individuals are not expected to have the expertise to do so safely on their own.

... everything in the world is a force, a pull or a push. In order for us to be pushed or pulled we need to be like a sail, like a kite in the wind. But if we have a hole in the middle of our luminosity, the force goes through it and never acts upon us.

I want to run as fast as I can.

I was, somewhere in the neighborhood of about 300 jumps.

Well, I jumped for the first time when I was 16. I just loved it and immediately realized that it was what I wanted to do.

I go skydiving often. At least twice a year.

The willow is my favorite tree. I grew up near one. It's the most flexible tree in nature and nothing can break it - no wind, no elements, it can bend and withstand anything.

I always loved hitting a low fade to a back-right pin with the wind howling from the right. Not many guys could get it close in that situation, because they kept it low by just putting the ball back in their stance. You see, playing the ball back turns you into a one-trick pony - you can only hit hooks.

The wind always seems to blow against catchers when they are running.

You find out the strength of a wind by trying to walk against it, not by lying down.

One can get a proper insight into the practice of flying only by actual flying experiments. . . . The manner in which we have to meet the irregularities of the wind, when soaring in the air, can only be learnt by being in the air itself. . . . The only way which leads us to a quick development in human flight is a systematic and energetic practice in actual flying experiments.

The weather-cock on a church-spire, though made of iron, would soon be broken by the storm-wind if it did not understand the noble art of turning to every wind.

When I go down the ice, I feel it, the wind in the side of my hair, and then I got the party in the back.

I've had sideburns since I was 16, but back then, a gust of wind would have blown them off.

Some time ago we heard a strange story. The pilot of a small plane said that he had been caught in a one hundred fifty mile gale, which held his plane perfectly still. The motor was roaring, he claimed, but the plane was not moving. "It was weird," he said , "to be going one hundred fifty miles an hour and yet not be going anywhere at all."

I've told him to cut off his ponytail. I think it makes him less aerodynamic.

The first time I jumped from a plane, I screamed like a woman. I was two miles up and you could hear me clear as day. Now I love it.