Behind all seen things lies something vaster; everything is but a path, a portal or a window opening on something other than iteself. - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

"Les contes de fées c'est comme ça.
Un matin on se réveille.
On dit: "Ce n'était qu'un conte de fées..."
On sourit de soi.
Mais au fond on ne sourit guère.
On sait bien que les contes de fées
c'est la seule vérité de la vie.

Fairy tales are like that.
One morning, we wake up
and say, "It was only a fairy tale..."
We put a smile on our face
but deep inside, this isn't what we feel like doing.
It's because we know full well that fairy tales
are the only truth in life.

[The English translation is Lucrèce Riminiac's.]"

"Of course I love you. It is my fault that you have not known it all the while" (the flower to little prince)

Bit by bit, nevertheless, it comes over us that we shall never again hear the laughter of our friend, that this one garden is forever locked against us. And at that moment begins our true mourning, which, though it may not be rending, is yet a little bitter. For nothing, in truth, can replace that companion. Old friends cannot be created out of hand. Nothing can match the treasure of common memories, of trials endured together, of quarrels and reconciliations and generous emotions. It is idle, having planted an acorn in the morning, to expect that afternoon to sit in the shade of the oak.