“One day I was driving down the farm track in the pickup,with two of the little boys, aged about four or five, sitting beside me. One of them turned to me conversationally and said, "Baba, don't worry. When you get old one day you'll be sitting here where we are, and we'll be driving you around!”

“But day after day of depression, the kind that doesn’t seem to merit carting me off to a hospital but allows me to sit here on this stoop in summer camp as if I were normal, day after day wearing down everybody who gets near me. My behavior seems, somehow, not acute enough for them to know what to do with me, though I’m just enough of a mess to be driving everyone around me crazy.”

“One day, I'll sit down with all my books around me, and just start reading.”

“One day," you said to me, "I saw the sunset forty-four times!"And a little later you added:"You know-- one loves the sunset, when one is so sad...""Were you so sad, then?" I asked, "on the day of the forty-four sunsets?"But the little prince made no reply.”

“And you'll sit beside me, and we'll look, not at visions, but at realities.”

“One day we'll sit and you'll lay it out on the table, neat like a solitaire deck, but now - why, you can't find all the cards.”