I've cheated the Grim Reaper more times than anyone I know.

There is a peculiar gratification in receiving congratulations from one's squadron for a victory in the air. It is worth more to a pilot than the applause of the whole outside world.

I would rather have a million friends than a million dollars.

Some friends are better shots than are casual enemies.

I get more spam than anyone I know.

When I look up and see the sun shining on the patch of white clouds up in the blue, I begin to think how it would feel to be up somewhere above it winging swiftly thought the clear air, watching the earth below, and the men on it, no bigger than ants.