The Little PrinceeBook - 2000
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I know of a planet where there is a red-faced gentleman. He has never smelled a flower. He has nevere looked at a star. He has never loved anybody. He has spent all his time adding up figures. And, all day he keeps on repeating like you: "I am busy with serious matters. I am busy with serious matters," over and over again. And he swells up with pride. But he is not a man, he is a mushroom.
-The little prince
"What are you doing there?" he said to the tippler, whom he found settled down in silence before a collection of empty bottles and also a collection of full bottles.
"I am drinking," replied the tippler, with a lugubrious air.
"Why are you drinking?" demanded the little prince.
"So that I may forget," replied the tippler.
"Forget what?" inquired the little prince, who already was sorry for him.
"Forget that I am ashamed," the tippler confessed, hanging his head.
"Ashamed of what?" insisted the little prince, who wanted to help him.
"Ashamed of drinking!" The tipler brought his speech to an end, and shut himself up in an impregnable silence.
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