A man has many parts, he is virtually everything, and you are free to select in him that part which pleases you.

You cannot plant an acorn in the morning, and expect that afternoon to sit in the shade of an oak.

And they heard the roaring thunder of a third brilliantly lighted express. "Are they pursuing the first travelers?" demanded the little prince. "They are pursuing nothing at all," said the switchman. "They are asleep in there, or if they are not asleep they are yawning. Only the children are flattening their noses against the windowpanes." "Only the children know what they are looking for," said the little prince. "They waste their time over a rag doll and it becomes very important to them; and if anybody takes it away from them, they cry..." "They are lucky," the switchman said.

Freedom and constraint are two aspects of the same necessity, the necessity of being the man you are and not another. You are free to be that man, but not another.

It is the savor of bread broken with comrades that makes us accept the values of war.

And that heart which was a wild garden was given to him who only loved trim lawns. And the imbecile carried the princess into slavery.

It's useful because it's beautiful.