“ To fly as fast as thought, to anywhere that is, you must begin by knowing that you have already arrived. Richard Bach
“ Just read The Virtue of Minding Your Own Business. Oh my, what currents run deep! Beautifully seen, beautifully told. Praise praise praise . . . Pardon my French, but you are one darn major American w… Richard Bach
“ Believe you know all the answers, and you know all the answers. Believe you're a master, and you are. Richard Bach
“ Overcome space, and all we have left is Here. Overcome time, and all we have left is Now. Richard Bach
“ To begin with, you've got to understand that a seagull is an unlimited idea of freedom, an image of the Great Gull, and your whole body, from wingtip to wingtip, is nothing more than your thought itse… Richard Bach
“ You don't love hatred and evil, of course. You have to practice and see the real gull, the good in every one of them, and to help them see it in themselves. That's what I mean by love. Richard Bach
“ Your only obligation in any lifetime is to be true to yourself. Being true to anyone else or anything else is not only impossible, but the mark of a fake messiah. The simplest questions are the most p… Richard Bach
“ Never stop being a kid, Richard. Never stop feeling and seeing and being excited with great things like air and engines and sounds of sunlight within you. Wear your little mask if you must to protect… Richard Bach
“ And like no other sculpture in the history of art, the dead engine and dead airframe come to life at the touch of a human hand, and join their life with the pilot's own. Richard Bach
“ My airplane is quiet, and for a moment still an alien, still a stranger to the ground, I am home. Richard Bach
“ If you will practice being fictional for a while, you will understand that fictional characters are sometimes more real than people with bodies and heartbeats. Richard Bach
“ Here is a test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished: If you´re alive it isn't. Richard Bach
“ I had grown up in a house with a fence around it, and in this fence was a white smooth wooden gate, two holes bored round and low together so the dog could see through. One night, the moon high, late… Richard Bach
