It's so mysterious, the land of tears.
I have no right, by anything I do or say, to demean a human being in his own eyes. What matters is not what I think of him; it is what he thinks of himself. To undermine a man's self-respect is a sin.
Happiness! It is useless to seek it elsewhere than in this warmth of human relations. Our sordid interests imprison us within their walls. Only a comrade can grasp us by the hand and haul us free.
And now here is my secret, a very simple secret; it is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye.
It's a question of discipline, — the little prince said to me later. — When you've attended to your own needs in the morning, you've got to attend carefully to the needs of the planet.
Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again.
They buy things in ready-made stores. But since there are no stores where you can buy friends, people no longer have friends.
It's the time you spent on your rose that makes your rose so important...People have forgotten this truth, but you mustn't forget it. You become responsible forever for what you've tamed. You're responsible for your rose.
Somewhere along the way we have gone astray. The human anthill is richer than ever before. We have more wealth and more leisure, and yet we lack something essential, which we find it difficult to describe. We feel less human; somewhere we have lost our mysterious prerogatives.
Now the clay of which you were shaped has dried and hardened, and naught in you will ever awaken the sleeping musician, the poet, the astronomer that possibly inhabited you in the beginning.
Misunderstood and forgotten, you have great truths within you if only anyone would bother to look.
It is much more difficult to judge oneself than to judge others.
Trying to be witty leads to lying, more or less.
But eyes are blind. You have to look with the heart.
When you find a diamond that belongs to nobody, it is yours. When you discover an island that belongs to nobody, it is yours. When you get an idea before any one else, you take out a patent on it : it is yours. So with me : I own the stars, because nobody else before me ever thought of owning them.
This water was indeed a different thing from ordinary nourishment. Its sweetness was born of the walk under the stars, the song of the pulley, the effort of my arms. It was good for the heart, like a present.
If I try to describe him here, it is so as not to forget him. To forget a friend is sad. Not everyone has had a friend. And if I do forget him, I might become like those grown-ups who no longer care for anything except figures.
To live is to be born slowly. it would be a little too easy to borrow ready-made souls!
No individual is isolated. He who is sad, saddens others.
I was too young to know how to love her.
You're not a man, you're a mushroom!