He moves not through distance, but through the ranges of satisfaction that come from hauling himself up into the air with complete and utter control; from knowing himself and knowing his airplane so well that he can come somewhere close to touching, in his own special and solitary way, that thing that is called perfection.
Unhappy is the man, though he rule the world, who doesn't consider himself supremely blessed. In order to consider himself supremely blessed he must deeply understand that things could be much worse but aren't! To not do that is to always be less happy than he could be.