Downhillers are going over 110 miles per hour. But no matter what, you can't hit the fence at 100 miles per hour.
I always look at these superhero films, and I see people hurdling towards at a hundred miles per hour, and then they get up, shake their head, and charge back at a hundred miles per hour. Nobody seems to really get injured or hurt. I don't find any threat in that. There is no tension in that whatsoever.
Racquetball is the only sport where simultaneously you can be looking at the ball and it'll hit you in the back of the head at 90 miles per hour.
I think my biggest thing is learning when to hit which serve when, not doing the exact same thing over and over. Because O.K., great, it's 120 miles per hour, but they're standing right there, and they just block it back.
The reason we tend to support Republicans is they're taking us toward the cliff at only 70 miles per hour miles an hour and the Democrats are taking us 100 miles an hour.
Well, Amber [Heard] is still raising her eyebrow at me because I said that I've been 180 miles per hour on the 405 freeway on a motorcycle and she doesn't believe me but it's a true story. I did it coming home from work at 3 in the morning on another movie I made about cars called Gone in 60 Seconds. I bought a Yamaha-1 and I was doing 180 miles per hour home on the 405 and that's really, really crazy but I did it.
The last time I was pulled over was in 2005. I was going 55 in a 35 mile per hour zone - which I don't understand because you can barely even idle at 35 miles per hour. Anyway, I was ordered to go to traffic school. It was an 8-hour class and really painful.
To hit 100 miles per hour, that's something. I couldn't believe it when I first saw it, but it's something I can do and think about.
My guitar survived Kosovo, then I went to visit a record company back in London and fell off my motorbike with it on my back, smashing it to bits. I was travelling at two miles per hour.
When it comes to hitting solid drives, the secret is to swing within yourself. I know that sounds like a cliche, but it's true. If you swing at 100 miles per hour and hit it on the toe, you won't hit the ball as far as you would with an 80-mph swing that catches the ball in the center of the clubface.
I was kind of wild. I enjoyed myself as a young man. I was moving 100 miles per hour - on and off the field.
I throw the ball ninety-two miles an hour, but they hit it back just as hard.
I enjoy sports movies that don't sugarcoat. One thing that irritates me about sports movies is that they're like, 'The magic of the ball,' and 'The magic of the stadium.' It ain't that magical. When you get hit coming across the middle at 25 miles per hour, the magic's over.
Right now I am a passenger on space vehicle Earth zooming about the Sun at 60,000 miles per hour somewhere in the solar system.
I want to die at a hundred years old with an American flag on my back and the star of Texas on my helmet, after screaming down an Alpine descent on a bicycle at 75 miles per hour.
We had an incident back in 2001 where our drummer threw out a drumstick into the crowd and it hit someone in the eye and they were going to sue us. You just always have to be really careful with that kind of stuff.