Read a poem "High Flight" by John Magee...
For me it says everything about flying. Glider, Chipmunk, Concorde or 777, it matters not. Flying is flying.
Once bitten - I agree with you.
When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.
I guess Icarus soon lost the urge
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