But the conceited man did not hear him. Conceited people never hear anything but praise.

It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.

She cast her fragrance and her radiance over me. I ought never to have run away from her... I ought to have guessed all the affection that lay behind her poor little stratagems. Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her.

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

You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.

Why are you drinking? demanded the little prince. "So that I may forget," replied the tippler. "Forget what?" inquired the little prince, who was already sorry for him. "Forget that I am ashamed," the tippler confessed, hanging his head. "Ashamed of what?" insisted the little prince, who wanted to help him. "Ashamed of drinking!

The tree is a slow, enduring force straining to win the sky.