Antoine de Saint-Exupery Quotes
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I will appoint captains to rule my cities, for it is in the compelling zest of high adventure and of victory, and in creative action, that man finds his supreme joys.
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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.
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If Someone wants a sheep, then that means that he exists.
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I was wrong to grow older. Pity. I was so happy as a child.
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But the conceited man did not hear him. Conceited people never hear anything but praise.
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Where I live, everything is very small.
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If France is to be judged, judge her not by the effects of her defeat but by her readiness to sacrifice herself.
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If you want to build a ship, teach the men to yearn for the vast and endless sea.
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The field of consciousness is tiny. It accepts only one problem at a time. Get into a fist fight, put your mind on the strategy of the fight, and you will not feel the other fellow's punches.
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No single event can awaken within us a stranger whose existence we had never suspected. To live is to be slowly born.
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One must require from each one the duty which each one can perform. Accepted authority rests first of all on reason.
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Man is but a network of relationships and these alone matter to him.
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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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Friendship is born from an identity of spiritual goals - from common navigation toward a star.
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Sitting in the flickering light of the candles on this kerchief of sand, on this village square, we waited in the night. We were waiting for the rescuing dawn - or for the Moors. Something, I know not what, lent this night a savor of Christmas. We told stories, we joked, we sang songs. In the air there was that slight fever that reigns over a gaily prepared feast. And yet we were infinitely poor. Wind, sand, and stars. The austerity of Trappists. But on this badly lighted cloth, a handful of men who possessed nothing in the world but their memories were sharing invisible riches.
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Cries of despair, misery, sobbing grief are a kind of wealth.
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I showed the grown ups my maasterpiece, andI asked them if my drawing scared them. They answered why be scared of a hat? My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant.
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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.
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It was the contemplation of God that created men who were equal, for it was in God that they were equal.
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To love is not to look at one another: it is to look, together, in the same direction.