The sensation of dying is sweet, sensuous, placid. It is the easiest thing in the world to die. The hardest is to live.

Within the next few decades, autos will have folding wings that can be spread when on a straight stretch of road so that the machine can take to the air.

I can give you a six-word formula for success: "Think things through - then follow through."

I've cheated the Grim Reaper more times than anyone I know, and I'll fight like a wildcat until they nail the lid of my pine box down on me.

In this business, you find the enemy, then go after and destroy him. Everything else is rubbish!

And I have yet to find one single individual who has attained conspicuous success in bringing down enemy aeroplanes who can be said to be spoiled either by his successes or by the generous congratulations of his comrades. If he were capable of being spoiled he would not have had the character to have won continuous victories, for the smallest amount of vanity is fatal in aeroplane fighting. Self-distrust rather is the quality to which many a pilot owes his protracted existence.

The experienced fighting pilot does not take unnecessary risks. His business is to shoot down enemy planes, not to get shot down.