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To live is to be slowly born.
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Sorrow is one of the vibrations that prove the fact of living.
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What sets men at variance is but the treachery of language, for always they desire the same things.
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My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant.
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Look at the sky. Ask yourselves: Has the sheep eaten the flower, yes or no? And you will see how everything changes.
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Sometimes, there is no harm in putting off a piece of work until another day.
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If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at night. All the stars are a-bloom with flowers.
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Once we are bound together to our brothers by a common good that is outside us, then we can breathe. Experience teaches us that love is not to gaze at one another but to gaze in the same direction. There is no comradeship except through unity on the same rope, climbing towards the same peak.
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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.
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Of what worth are convictions that bring not suffering?
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But eyes are blind. You have to look with the heart.
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You are beautiful, but you are empty,” he went on. “One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me.
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Defeat is a thing of weariness, of incoherence, of boredom, and above all futility.
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To be a man is, precisely, to be responsible. It is to feel shame at the sight of what seems to be unmerited misery. It is to take pride in a victory won by one's comrades. It is to feel, when setting one's stone, that one is contributing to the building of the world.
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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.
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What value has compassion that does not take its object in its arms?
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You know... when you are sad you love the sunsets.
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I fly because it releases my mind from the tyranny of petty things.
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Si quelqu'un veut un mouton, c'est la preuve qu'il en existe un. (If somebody wants a sheep, that is a proof that one exists.)
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You're not a man, you're a mushroom!
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We are prudent people. We are afraid to let go of our petty reality in order to grasp at a great shadow.
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Horror causes men to clench their fists, and in horror men join together.
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Water, thou hast no taste, no color, no odor; canst not be defined, art relished while ever mysterious. Not necessary to life, but rather life itself, thou fillest us with a gratification that exceeds the delight of the senses.
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Where are the people?” resumed the little prince at last. “It’s a little lonely in the desert…” “It is lonely when you’re among people, too,” said the snake.