Zitate von Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.

You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.

I must endure the presence of a few caterpillars if I wish to become acquainted with the butterflies.

Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.

"What makes the desert beautiful," said the little prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well."

All grown-ups were once children... but only few of them remember it.

It is such a mysterious place, the land of tears!

Grown-ups love figures. When you tell them you've made a new friend they never ask you any questions about essential matters.
They never say to you "What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies?"
Instead they demand "How old is he? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make?" Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him.

It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.

If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up the men to gather wood, divide the work, and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea.

Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.

It is only with the heart that one can see rightly;
what is essential is invisible to the eye.

I ask the indulgence of the children who may read this book for dedicating it to a grown-up. I have a serious reason: he is the best friend I have in the world. I have another reason: this grown-up understands everything, even books about children. I have a third reason: he lives in France where he is hungry and cold. He needs cheering up. If all these reasons are not enough, I will dedicate the book to the child from whom this grown-up grew. All grown-ups were once children– although few of them remember it. And so I correct my dedication:

To Leon Werth
When he was a little boy

Since the war he had read in a magazine an account of Saint- Exupéry's last flight, and on referring back to his war diaries had discovered that, on 31st July, 1944, a Focke-Wulf pilot on patrol over Ajaccio in Corsica reported the destruction of a re connaissance machine which fell into sea in flames after combat. This incident had occurred at about midday, when the Focke- Wulf was patrolling at between fifteen and sixteen thousand feet, at which height it is slightly faster than the Lightning. Korth's theory was that it had shot down Saint-Exupéry's plane as he was dropping off height before re-crossing the coast to return to base; the sun, too, would have been full in his face, and might have blinded him to the approach of the enemy plane. Korth's account ended: I am only a pariah, but I beg you to send my good wishes to the comrades of Saint-Exupéry's Squadron; they won't despise the greetings of a veteran German pilot writing from a Germany in despair, and who has French blood in his veins, for my mother, born in Lorraine, was a Frenchwoman.