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Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

The Little Prince

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  • Isabella Ruizje citiraoпре 6 месеци
    ‘The eyes do not see that which is most important,’ the little prince repeated, so that he would remember.

    ‘It is the time you have spent with your rose that makes your rose so important.’

    ‘It is the time I have spent with my rose …’ repeated the little prince, so that he wouldn’t forget
  • kookcuyje citiralaпрошлог месеца
    Oh, little prince, slowly I begin to piece together the secrets of your sad life. For so long you have found your happiness looking at beautiful sunsets. It was on the fourth morning that I learnt of this fact, when you said to me:
    ‘I do love sunsets. Let us go and watch one now.’
    ‘But we must wait.’
    ‘Wait? For what?’
    ‘Wait until it is time for sunset.’
    You seemed puzzled at first. Then you laughed and said: ‘I keep forgetting that I’m not at home!’
    He had clearly forgotten. It is a known fact that when it is noontime in America, the sun is setting over France. If you could swiftly zip through the air to France, you would be able to watch the sun go down.
    Unfortunately, France is too far away. But on your planet, my little prince, all you need to do is revolve your chair a little and watch night fall.
    ‘I watched forty-four sunsets one day!’
    ‘You know,’ you added sometime later, ‘when people are sad, they watch sunsets.’
  • kookcuyje citiralaпрошлог месеца
    ‘Your sheep is inside this box,’ I explained.
    I was pleasantly surprised to see his face light up. ‘That is just what I wanted! Do you think this sheep will need plenty of grass?’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because my world is very small.’
    ‘Of course there will be enough grass,’ I said. ‘It is a tiny sheep.’
    He bent over the drawing and looked closely. ‘Not too tiny … oh look! He has gone to sleep.’
    And that is how I first met the little prince.
  • kookcuyje citiralaпрошлог месеца
    I do not want anyone to read my book carelessly. Reliving these memories has made me sad. It has been six years since my friend departed, along with his sheep. I must try to describe him here, to make sure that I don’t ever forget him. To forget a friend is terrible. Not everyone has had a friend.
  • Isabella Ruizje citiraoпре 6 месеци
    Goodbye,’ said the fox. ‘Here is my secret, it’s a simple secret: it is only through your heart that you can see clearly. The eyes do not see that which is most important.’
  • Isabella Ruizje citiraoпре 6 месеци
    Yes,’ said the fox.

    ‘But now you are going to cry!’ said the little prince.

    ‘Yes,’ said the fox.

    ‘So, it has done you no good!’

    ‘It has done me good — I can now appreciate the colour of the wheat fields.’

    Then he added, ‘Go and look at the roses again. And it will be clear to you that yours is unique. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will give you for a gift a secret.’
  • Isabella Ruizje citiraoпре 6 месеци
    The fault is your own,’ said the little prince. ‘I wished you no unhappiness, but you insisted that I tame you.’
  • Isabella Ruizje citiraoпре 6 месеци
    So the little prince tamed the fox. And when it was time for him to depart, ‘I am going to cry,’ said the fox.
  • Isabella Ruizje citiraoпре 6 месеци
    You have to be very patient,’ replied the fox. ‘First, sit some distance away from me on the grass. I will look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will be quiet. Words can cause misunderstandings. But each day you should come a little closer.’
  • Isabella Ruizje citiraoпре 6 месеци
    ‘My life is so dull,’ the fox continued. ‘I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are identical. All the men are identical. As a result I’m thoroughly bored. But if you tame me, my life will light up. I’ll recognize your footsteps from all the others. While other’s footfalls drive me underground, yours will draw me out like music. Look there! Do you see the wheat fields? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. They remind me of nothing. And that is sad. But your hair is the colour of gold. Imagine how it will be when you have tamed me! I will see the golden wheat and think of you. And the wind whispering through the wheat stalks will make me happy.’
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