You are beautiful, but you are empty,” he went on. “One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me.

The theoretician believes in logic and believes that he despises dreams, intuition, and poetry. He does not recognize that these three fairies have only disguised themselves in order to dazzle him.... He does not know that he owes his greatest discoveries to them.

Of what worth are convictions that bring not suffering?

The flower you single out is a rejection of all other flowers; nevertheless, only on these terms is it beautiful.

A chief is a man who assumes responsibility. He says 'I was beaten,' he does not say 'My men were beaten.'

People have stars, but they aren't the same. For travelers, the stars are guides. For other people, they're nothing but tiny lights. And for still others, for scholars, they're problems... But all those stars are silent stars. You, though, you'll have stars like nobody else... since I'll be laughing on one of them, for you it'll be as if all the stars are laughing. You'll have stars that can laugh!... and it'll be as if I had given you, instead of stars, a lot of tiny bells that know how to laugh.

What do we mean by setting a man free? You cannot free a man who dwells in a desert and is an unfeeling brute.