But Certainly, For Us Who Understand Life,

I Know A Planet Where There Is A Certain Red-faced Gentleman. He Has Never Smelled A Flower. He Has Never Looked At A Star. He Has Never Loved Any One. He Has Never Done Anything In His Life But Add Up Figures. And All Day He Says Over And Over, Just Like You: 'i Am Busy With Matters Of Consequence!' And That Makes Him Swell Up With Pride. But He Is Not A Man - He Is A Mushroom!

Confuse Not Love With The Raptures Of Possession, Which Bring The Cruellest Of Sufferings. For, Notwithstanding The General Opinion, Love Does Not Cause Suffering: What Causes It Is The Sense Of Ownership, Which Is Love's Opposite.

So The Little Prince Tamed The Fox. And When The Hour Of His Departure Drew Near-- Ah," Said The Fox, "i Shall Cry." It Is Your Own Fault," Said The Little Prince. "i Never Wished You Any Sort Of Harm; But You Wanted Me To Tame You . . ." Yes, That Is So," Said The Fox. But Now You Are Going To Cry!" Said The Little Prince. Yes, That Is So," Said The Fox. Then It Has Done You No Good At All!" It Has Done Me Good," Said The Fox, "because Of The Color Of The Wheat Fields.

The Wind In The Grain Is The Caress To The Spouse; It Is The Hand Of Peace Stroking Her Hair.

We Are Prudent People. We Are Afraid To Let Go Of Our Petty Reality In Order To Grasp At A Great Shadow.