Like everything else, Fletcher. Practice.

It had never gotten old for him, flying. Never gone boring. Every engine start was a new adventure, guiding the spirit of a lovely machine back into life; every takeoff blending his spirit with its own to do what's never been done in history, to lift away from the ground and fly.

What a delighted fascination it is, to stand aside and watch our dearest friend perform on stage without us.

Numbers are limits, and perfection doesn't have limits.

Every step in every proud life is a run from safety to the dark, and the only thing to trust is what we think is true.

Some choices we live not only once but a thousand times over, remembering them for the rest of our lives.

Civilization... wrecks the planet from seafloor to stratosphere.