A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral.

The strong are strengthened by reverses; the trouble is that the true meaning of events scores next to nothing in the match we play with men. Appearances decide our gains or losses and the points are trumpery. And a mere semblance of defeat may hopelessly checkmate us.

One can be a brother only in something. Where there is no tie that binds men, men are not united but merely lined up.

The one thing that matters is the effort.

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

But games always cover something deep and intense, else there would be no excitement in them, no pleasure, no power to stir us.

Where are the people?” resumed the little prince at last. “It’s a little lonely in the desert…” “It is lonely when you’re among people, too,” said the snake.