"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 … - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Ako hoćeš da izgradiš brod, nemoj da okupljaš ljude da ti nabave drvo, pripreme alat ili da obavljaju raznorazne poslove i zadatke, već probudi u njima čežnju za nepreglednim dalekim morima.

Precisely because it is perfect the machine dissembles its own existence instead of forcing itself upon our notice. And thus, also, the realities of nature resume their pride of place. It is not with metal that the pilot is in contact. Contrary to the vulgar illusion, it is thanks to the metal, and by virtue of it, that the pilot rediscovers nature. As I have already said, the machine does not isolate man from the great problems of nature but plunges him more deeply into them. Numerous, nevertheless, are the moralists who have attacked the machine as the source of all the ills we bear, who, creating a fictitious dichotomy, have denounced the mechanical civilization as the enemy of the spiritual civilization. If what they think were really so, then indeed we should have to despair of man, for it would be futile to struggle against this new advancing chaos. The machine is certainly as irresistible in its advance as those virgin forests that encroach upon equatorial domains.

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.