I'm not sure which is more sad: the fall of Icarus into the sea or the lives of the peasants watching him fall into the cold waters, knowing neither the elation of flight nor the desperation of drowning to one's death. Before his death, no doubt I think the choice of Icarus seems obvious, but then again no one anticipates his own downfall. An upper middle-class existence is as such. A taste of the delights of wealth leads to a hunger for an unsustainable level of luxury. A fear of falling doesn't seem so likely when you're flying in the opposite direction.