Time Is An Abstraction Which, On Earth,

The Idea Of Racial Inferiority Or Superiority Is Foreign To Me. I Can't Feel Inferior Or Superior To Another Man Because Of Race, Or In Any Way Antagonistic To Him. I Judge By The Individual, Not By His Race, And Have Always Done So. I Would Rather Have One Of My Children Marry Into A Good Family Of Any Race Than Into A Bad Family Of Any Other Race.

If I Had To Choose, I Would Rather Have Birds Than Airplanes.

[i] Grew Up As A Disciple Of Science. I Know Its Fascination. I Have Felt The Godlike Power Man Derives From His Machines.

True, The Fragile Bodies Of His Fellows Do Not Weigh Down His Plane; True, The Fretful Minds Of Weaker Men Are Missing From His Crowded Cabin; But As His Airship Keeps Its Course He Holds Communion With Those Rare Spirits That Inspire To Intrepidity And By Their Sustaining Potency Give Strength To Arm, Resource To Mind, Content To Soul. Alone? With What Other Companions Would Man Fly To Whom The Choice Were Given?

Any Coward Can Sit In His Home And Criticize A Pilot For Flying Into A Mountain In A Fog. But I Would Rather, By Far, Die On A Mountainside Than In Bed. What Kind Of Man Would Live Where There Is No Daring? And Is Life So Dear That We Should Blame Men For Dying In Adventure? Is There A Better Way To Die?