About the most that can be said for Donald Trump, as a politician and as a person, is that he didn't let being President of the United States change him. This is not really a compliment, to be clear. Trump's public persona was grandiose enough that he tended to talk about becoming president as if it was something like a demotion, with him benevolently stepping away from his job as The King Of Success and his wonderful life enjoying the finer things alongside the most powerful and influential people to do the world a favor. If he was awed by the power of the office at all, it was mainly in the same way that he would previously have been impressed by particularly large slabs of marble, or the number of models in attendance at an associate's birthday party. He certainly never let the immensity of all that responsibility push him to work any harder; the fantasy that Trump would rise to the moment, which persisted in the elite echelons of the mainstream media through a poignantly long series of entirely unmet moments, was not so much misplaced as it was a category error.
The whole thing is glorious.
Even though he's not yet dead, and this isn't about him being dead, when it's time to write his obituary, this will be the one to beat.