Sublime

Children must be very indulgent to the grown-ups.

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

The physical drama itself cannot touch us until some one points out its spiritual sense.

But to come to this land of love you have to pass through the pains of death. For to love persons is to have died to the need for persons and to be utterly alone.

‘It was wrong of you to come. You will suffer. I shall look as if I were dead; and that will not be true…’ I said nothing. ‘You understand…it is too far. I cannot carry this body with me. It is too heavy.’ I said nothing. ‘But it will be like an old abandoned shell. There is nothing sad about old shells…’ I said nothing.

“Men in your planet,” said the little prince, “cultivate five thousand roses in the same garden… and they do not find what they are looking for.”

“One cannot make a slave of a free person, for a free person is free even in prison.”