If France Is To Be Judged, Judge

At One Time I Say To Myself: "surely Not! The Little Prince Shuts His Flower Under Her Glass Globe Every Night, And He Watches Over His Sheep Very Carefully . . ." Then I Am Happy. And There Is Sweetness In The Laughter Of All The Stars.

The Flower You Single Out Is A Rejection Of All Other Flowers; Nevertheless, Only On These Terms Is It Beautiful.

In Those Days, I Didn't Understand Anything. I Should Have Judged Her According To Her Actions, Not Her Words. She Perfumed My Planet And Lit Up My Life. I Should Never Have Run Away! I Ought To Have Realized The Tenderness Underlying Her Silly Pretensions. Flowers Are So Contadictory! But I Was Too Young To Know How To Love Her.

To Forget A Friend Is Sad. Not Everyone Has Had A Friend.

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.]