Antoine de Saint-Exupery Quotes

Tell me who admires and loves you, and I will tell you who you are.

Here is my secret. It is very simple: one sees well only with the heart. The essential is invisible to the eyes.

We must not subject him who creates to the desires of the multitude. It is, rather, his creation that must become the multitude's desire.

Even our misfortunes are a part of our belongings.

If some one loves a flower of which just one example exists among all the millions and millions of stars, that's enough to make him happy when he looks at the stars. He tells himself, "My flower's up there somewhere. . . ." But if the sheep eats the flower, then for him it's as if, suddenly, all the stars went out. And that isn't important?

One day," you said to me, "I saw the sunset forty-four times!" And a little later you added: "You know-- one loves the sunset, when one is so sad..." "Were you so sad, then?" I asked, "on the day of the forty-four sunsets?" But the little prince made no reply.

You - you alone will have the stars as no one else has them...In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night...You - only you - will have stars that can laugh.

I still fall for your everyday.

I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings." -from the Fox-

Real love begins where nothing is expected in return.

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

The seed haunted by the sun never fails to find its way between the stones in the ground. And the pure logician, if no sun draws him forth, remains entangled in his logic.

Flying is a man's job and its worries are a man's worries.

Love, like a carefully loaded ship, crosses the gulf between the generations.

When one wishes to play the wit, he sometimes wander a little from the truth.

No single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. To live is to be slowly born. It would be a bit too easy if we could go about borrowing ready-made souls.

If you are to be, you must begin by assuming responsibility. You alone are responsible for every moment of your life, for every one of your acts.

The proof that the little prince existed is that he was charming, that he laughed, and that he was looking for a sheep. If anybody wants a sheep, that is a proof that he exists.

A civilization is a heritage of beliefs, customs, and knowledge slowly accumulated in the course of centuries, elements difficult at times to justify by logic, but justifying themselves as paths when they lead somewhere, since they open up for man his inner distance.

A civilization is built on what is required of men, not on that which is provided for them.

You're beautiful, but you're empty...One couldn't die for you. Of course, an ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you. But my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together, since she's the one I've watered. Since she's the one I put under glass, since she's the one I sheltered behind the screen. Since she's the one for whom I killed the caterpillars (except the two or three butterflies). Since she's the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she's my rose.

The wind in the grain is the caress to the spouse; it is the hand of peace stroking her hair.

Well, I must endure the presence of a few caterpillars if I wish to become acquainted with the butterflies.

Demagoguery enters at the moment when, for want of a common denominator, the principle of equality degenerates into the principle of identity.

I was too young to know how to love her.

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!

To love is not to look at one another: it is to look, together, in the same direction.

GOOD MORNING," said the little prince. "Good Morning," said the salesclerk. This was a salesclerk who sold pills invented to quench thirst. Swallow one a week and you no longer feel any need to drink. "Why do you sell these pills?" "They save so much time," the salesclerk said. "Experts have calculated that you can save fifty-three minutes a week." "And what do you do with those fifty-three minutes?" "Whatever you like." "If I had fifty-three minutes to spend as I liked," the little prince said to himself, "I'd walk very slowly toward a water fountain.

But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.

It is the duty of the ship's captain to make port, cost what it may.

If you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world…if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow

One runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets himself be tamed.

How is it possible for one to own the stars?" "To whom do they belong?" the businessman retorted, peevishly. "I don't know. To nobody.

Treason implies responsibility for something, control over something, influence upon something, knowledge of something. Treason in our time is a proof of genius. Why, I want to know, are not traitors decorated?

It is the missed opportunity that counts, and in a love that vainly yearns from behind prison bars you have perchance the love supreme.

He sat down. I sat down next to him. And after a silence, he spoke again. 'The stars are beautiful because of a flower you don't see...' I answered, 'Yes, of course.

Behind all seen things lies something vaster; everything is but a path, a portal or a window opening on something other than iteself.

Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.

Perfection is attained, not when no more can be added, but when no more can be removed.

Truth is not that which is demonstrable but that which is ineluctable.

No single event can awaken within us a stranger whose existence we had never suspected. To live is to be slowly born.

Are wars... anything but the means whereby a nation's problems are set, where creation is stimulated - there you have adventure. But there is no adventure in heads-or-tails, in betting that the toss will come out of life or death. War is not an adventure. It is a disease. It is like typhus.

We say nothing essential about the cathedral when we speak of its stones. We say nothing essential about Man when we seek to define him by the qualities of men.

Friendship is born from an identity of spiritual goals - from common navigation toward a star.

True love begins when nothing is looked for in return.

When faith burns itself out, 'tis God who dies and thenceforth proves unavailing.

We do not pray for immortality, but only not to see our acts and all things stripped suddenly of all their meaning; for then it is the utter emptiness of everything reveals itself.

More wisdom is latent in things as they are than in all the words men use.