Quote : Le’Petite Prince

The lit­tle prince went away, to look again at the ros­es.
You’re not at all like my rose,” he said.
As yet you are noth­ing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one.
You’re like my fox when I first knew him.
He was only a fox like a hun­dred thou­sand oth­er fox­es.
But I have made a friend, and now he’s unique in all the world.”
And the ros­es were very much embar­rassed.
You’re beau­ti­ful, but you’re emp­ty,” he went on. One could not die for you.
To be sure, an ordi­nary passer­by would think that my rose looked just like you
–the rose that belongs to me. But in her­self alone she’s more impor­tant
than all the hun­dreds of you oth­er ros­es :
because it is she that I have watered ;
because it is she that I have put under the glass globe ;
because it is for her that I’ve killed the cater­pil­lars
(except the two or three we saved to become but­ter­flies);
because it is she that I have lis­tened to, when she grum­bled,
or boast­ed, or even some­times when she said noth­ing.
Because she is MY rose.”


What is it that we call lone­li­ness. It can’t sim­ply be the absence of oth­ers, you can be alone and not lone­ly, and you can be among peo­ple and yet be lone­ly. So what is it ? … it isn’t only that oth­ers are there, that they fill up the space next to us. But even when they cel­e­brate us or give advice in a friend­ly con­ver­sa­tion, clever, sen­si­tive advice : even then we can be lone­ly. So lone­li­ness is not some­thing sim­ply con­nect­ed with the pres­ence of oth­ers or with what they do. Then what ? What on earth?”

Paul Merci­er, Night Train to Lis­bon

Guide our dreams /​Michael Leu­nig

Dear God

We give thanks for the dark­ness of the
night where lies the world of dreams. Guide
us clos­er to our dreams so that we may be
nour­ished by them. Give us good dreams
and mem­o­ry of them so that we may car­ry
their poet­ry and mys­tery into our dai­ly lives.
Grant us deep and rest­ful sleep that we
may wake refreshed with strength enough to
renew a world grown tired.
We give thanks for the inspi­ra­tion of stars,
the dig­ni­ty of the moon and the lul­la­bies of
crick­ets and frogs.
Let us restore the night and reclaim it as
a sac­tu­ary of peace, where silence shall be
music to our hearts and dark­ness shall
throw light upon our souls. Good night.
Sweet dreams.