It's a question of discipline,' the little prince told me later on. 'when you've finished washing and dressing each morning, you must tend your planet. you must be sure you pull up the baobabs regularly, as soon as you can tell them apart from the rosebushes, which they closely resemble when they're very young. It's very tedious work, but very easy.

One runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets himself be tamed.

We don’t ask to be eternal beings. We only ask that things do not lose all their meaning.

One's suffering disappears when one lets oneself go, when one yields - even to sadness.

How is it possible for one to own the stars?" "To whom do they belong?" the businessman retorted, peevishly. "I don't know. To nobody.

But certainly, for us who understand life, figures are a matter of indifference.

"It's a question of discipline," the little prince told me later on. "When you've finished washing and dressing each morning, you must tend your planet."