If Someone Wants A Sheep, Then That

Night, The Beloved. Night, When Words Fade And Things Come Alive. When The Destructive Analysis Of Day Is Done, And All That Is Truly Important Becomes Whole And Sound Again. When Man Reassembles His Fragmentary Self And Grows With The Calm Of A Tree.

We Don’t Ask To Be Eternal Beings. We Only Ask That Things Do Not Lose All Their Meaning.

I Am Beginning To Understand," Said The Little Prince. "there Is A Flower... I Think That She Has Tamed Me.

I Wonder," He Said, "whether The Stars Are Set Alight In Heaven So That One Day Each One Of Us May Find His Own Again.

Good Taste" Is A Virtue Of The Keepers Of Museums. If You Scorn Bad Taste, You Will Have Neither Painting Nor Dancing, Neither Palaces Nor Gardens.