Sometimes, there is no harm in putting off a piece of work until another day.

I remembered the fox. One runs the risk of crying a bit if one allows oneself to be tamed.

The job has its grandeurs, yes. There is the exultation of arriving safely after a storm, the joy of gliding down out of the darkness of night or tempest toward a sun-drenched Alicante or Santiago; there is the swelling sense of returning to repossess one's place in life, in the miraculous garden of earth, where are trees and women and, down by the harbor, friendly little bars. When he has throttled his engine and is banking into the airport, leaving the somber cloud masses behind, what pilot does not break into song?

One day, I watched the sun setting forty-four times......You know...when one is so terribly sad, one loves sunsets.

The meaning of things lies not in the things themselves, but in our attitude towards them.

Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me.

Man's progress is but a gradual discovery that his questions have no meaning.