It Is Nice To Think

Failures Aren't Failures If You Learn Something From Them.

The Fundamental Magic Of Flying, A Miracle That Has Nothing To Do With Any Of Its Practical Purposes - Purposes Of Speed, Accessibility, And Convenience - And Will Not Change As They Change.

Perhaps Middle-age Is, Or Should Be, A Period Of Shedding Shells; The Shell Of Ambition, The Shell Of Material Accumulations And Possessions, The Shell Of The Ego.

The Bearing, Rearing, Feeding And Educating Of Children; The Running Of A House With Its Thousand Details; Human Relationships With Their Myriad Pulls - Women's Normal Occupations In General Run Counter To Creative Life, Or Contemplative Life, Or Saintly Life.

It Was A Magic Caused By The Collision Of Modern Methods And Old Ones; Modern History And Ancient; Accessibility And Isolation. And It Was A Magic Which Could Only Strike Spark About That Time. A Few Years Earlier, From The Point Of View Of Aircraft Alone, It Would Have Been Impossible To Reach These Places; A Few Later, And There Will Be No Such Isolation.