Antoine de Saint-Exupery Quotes
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The house, the stars, the desert -- what gives them their beauty is something that is invisible!
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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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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.
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The magic of the craft has opened for me a world in which I shall confront, within two hours, the black dragons and the crowned crests of a coma of blue lightnings, and when night has fallen I, delivered, shall read my course in the starts.
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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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The airplane has unveiled for us the true face of the earth.
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C'est véritablement utile puisque c'est joli. It is truly useful since it is beautiful.
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You know... when you are sad you love the sunsets.
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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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The important thing is to strive toward a goal which is not immediately visible. That goal is not the concern of the mind, but of the spirit.
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Freedom and constraint are two aspects of the same necessity, the necessity of being the man you are and not another. You are free to be that man, but not another.
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It's useful because it's beautiful.
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Sometimes, there is no harm in putting off a piece of work until another day.
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Trying to be witty leads to lying, more or less.
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There is a cheap literature that speaks to us of the need of escape. It is true that when we travel we are in search of distance. But distance is not to be found. It melts away. And escape has never led anywhere. The moment a man finds that he must play the races, go the Arctic, or make war in order to feel himself alive, that man has begin to spin the strands that bind him to other men and to the world. But what wretched strands! A civilization that is really strong fills man to the brim, though he never stir. What are we worth when motionless, is the question.
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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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It's quite simple: One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes. [Fr., Il est tres simple: on ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.]
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Surely a man needs a closed place wherein he may strike root and, like the seed, become. But also he needs the great Milky Way above him and the vast sea spaces, though neither stars nor ocean serve his daily needs.
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Action and personal happiness have no truck with each other; they are eternally at war.
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To become a man is to be responsible; to be ashamed of miseries that you did not cause.
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When we think that the machine will harm man, then it is perhaps because we are not yet capable of judging the rapid changes it has brought about. We hardly feel at home in this landscape of mines and power stations. We have just moved into this new home that we have not even finished yet. Everything around us has changed so fast - personal relations, working conditions, habits. Even our state of mind is in turmoil.
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No one is ever satisfied where he is.
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Commonly, people believe that defeat is characterized by a general bustle and a feverish rush. Bustle and rush are the signs of victory, not of defeat. Victory is a thing of action. It is a house in the act of being built. Every participant in victory sweats and puffs, carrying the stones for the building of the house. But defeat is a thing of weariness, of incoherence, of boredom. And above all of futility.
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You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.