It Is As A Soldier That You

To Be A Man Is To Feel That One's Own Stone Contributes To Building The Edifice Of The World.

The Job Has Its Grandeurs, Yes. There Is The Exultation Of Arriving Safely After A Storm, The Joy Of Gliding Down Out Of The Darkness Of Night Or Tempest Toward A Sun-drenched Alicante Or Santiago; There Is The Swelling Sense Of Returning To Repossess One's Place In Life, In The Miraculous Garden Of Earth, Where Are Trees And Women And, Down By The Harbor, Friendly Little Bars. When He Has Throttled His Engine And Is Banking Into The Airport, Leaving The Somber Cloud Masses Behind, What Pilot Does Not Break Into Song?

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 The Conceited Man Did Not Hear Him. Conceited People Never Hear Anything But Praise.

Love, Like A Carefully Loaded Ship, Crosses The Gulf Between The Generations.