The Blue Yonder

What are you thinking of? Lillian Paul, German named Lillian Paul, who wanted to fly.

Crashed in his gliders. Yet, seven years. You have better luck, all the right. You and your brother Wilbur. More than 1,000 glider flights last year and were still alive. You learned a lot how to control your glider against every kind wind, prepared you for what you're trying to do now, to fly heavier than air in the she.

Although, yes, Will, can't you sleep either? Brother Wilbur, always you two, inseparable, partners in business back home in Dayton, Ohio, selling, repairing vistacy, but always consumed by one great ambition to be the first one to fly an aeroplane.

We've built it. Interesting observation. I just realized we've actually built a flying machine. Tomorrow I'll test this. Fly it. Not unless this wind's lagging. It'll go down by morning. You know, or in my quiet modest way, I was just reflecting.

If you and I know more about aviation than the rest of the world put together. I suppose we do it that. We're geniuses. Even if we never did go to college. We even build a...

Yes, although... a few months ago, in your workshop in Dayton. Remember? There's no use, Will. Another turn, I don't think we'll get any automobile company to build a cenangent. Yeah, they're sensitive about looking stupid.

Yeah, letting people think of flying machine as possible. It, uh... Occurs to me, oh boy, we might. In weeks of hard work, buying, making parts, fitting them together. Well, I guess we'll have to run the crankshaft for an act.

Start the motor from the rear. She's like that. Two mines working as one. Others worked alone. They failed. But you, or will you and your brother, you supplement each other. Then one day back there in Dayton.