For I do not want any one to read my book carelessly. I have suffered too much grief in setting down these memories. Six years have already passed since my friend went away from me, with his sheep. If I try to describe him here, it is to make sure that I shall not forget him. To forget a friend is sad. Not every one has had a friend. And if I forget him, I may become like the grown-ups who are no longer interested in anything but figures.
Interpretation
The quote expresses the deep grief associated with the loss of a friend and the importance of remembering them.
In this quote, Antoine De Saint-Exupery reflects on the pain of losing a friend and emphasizes the act of remembering them as a way to honor their memory. He implies that forgetting a friend leads to a loss of wonder and innocence, resembling the adult world that often prioritizes numbers and practicality over genuine connections and emotions.
In practice
In a speech about the importance of friendships and memories.
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.
Attitude is a paintbrush. It colors everything!
Water, thou hast no taste, no color, no odor; canst not be defined, art relished while ever mysterious. Not necessary to life, but rather life itself, thou fillest us with a gratification that exceeds the delight of the senses.
In those days, I didn't understand anything. I should have judged her according to her actions, not her words. She perfumed my planet and lit up my life. I should never have run away! I ought to have realized the tenderness underlying her silly pretensions. Flowers are so contadictory! But I was too young to know how to love her.
When a mystery is too overpowering, one dare not disobey.
When the body sinks into death, the essence of man is revealed. Man is a knot, a web, a mesh into which relationships are tied. Only those relationships matter. The body is an old crock that nobody will miss. I have never known a man to think of himself when dying. Never.
Friends show their love in times of trouble, not in happiness.
If this is the way You treat Your friends, no wonder You have so few!
We've always had each other's backs in and out of competition. We support each other the most because we're the only ones that know what it's like to go through what we do, and so we can't be more thankful for each other. We're like sisters.
The story, from beginning to end, I found again in a heart of a friend.
If a friend of mine gave a feast, and did not invite me to it, I should not mind a bit. but if a friend of mine had a sorrow and refused to allow me to share it, I should feel it most bitterly. If he shut the doors of the house of mourning against me, I would move back again and again and beg to be admitted so that I might share in what I was entitled to share. If he thought me unworthy, unfit to weep with him, I should feel it as the most poignant humiliation.
You cannot be friends upon any other terms than upon the terms of equality.
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