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From this I learned a second feet of great importance: the planet he came from was scarcely bigger than a house!
This was no great surprise to me. I knew very well that, besides the important planets - Earth, Jupiter, Mars, Venus, and so on - to which names have been given, there are also hundreds of others, some so small that one has trouble finding them even through the telescope. When an astronomer discovers one of these, he gives it a number instead of a name. So he might call it, for instance, 'Asteroid 3251.'
I have good reason to believe that the planet from which the little prince came is the asteroid known as B612. This asteroid has only once been seen through the telescope: by a Turkish astronomer, in 1909.
At the time, this astronomer made a grand presentation of his discovery before an International Congress of Astronomy. But since he was wearing Turkish national costume nobody would believe him. Grown-ups are like that...
Fortunately for the reputation of Asteroid B612, a Turkish dictator ordered his sub-jects, on pain of death, to convert to European dress. In 1920 our astronomer repeated his demonstration, wearing elegant evening dress. This time everyone accepted his proofs.
The reason I have told you so much about Asteroid B612, and let you know its number, is because of grown-ups. Grown-ups love figures. When you describe a new friend to them, they never ask you about the important things. They never say: 'What's his voice like? What are his favourite games? Does he collect butterflies?' Instead they demand: 'How old is he? How many brothers has he? How much does he weigh? How much does his father earn?' Only then do they feel they know him. If you say to the grown-ups: 'I've seen a lovely house made of pink brick, with geraniums in the windows and doves on the roof', they are unable to picture such a house. You must say: 'I saw a house that cost a hundred thousand francs.' Then they cry out: 'Oh, how pretty!'
Again, you might say to them: 'The proof that the little prince existed is that he was enchanting, that he laughed, and that he was looking for a sheep. When someone wants a sheep, it is proof that they exist.' The grown-ups will merely shrug their shoulders, and treat you like a child. But if you tell them: 'The planet he came from is Asteroid B612', then they will be convinced, and will spare you all their questions. That is how they are. You must not hold it against them. Children have to be very indulgent towards grown-ups.
Of course, for we who understand life, figures are quite unimportant. I would have liked to begin this story in the manner of a fairy tale. I would have liked to write:
'Once upon a time there was a little prince who lived on a planet scarcely bigger than himself, and who was in need of a friend ...' To those who understand life, that would have a much greater air of truth.
You see, I do not want my story to be taken lightly. I have suffered so much grief setting down these memories. Already six years have passed since my friend went away, along with his sheep. If I try to describe him here, it is so as not to forget him. To forget a friend is sad. Not everyone has had a friend. And if I do forget him, I might become like those grown-ups who no longer care for anything except figures.
It is for this reason, too, that I have bought a paintbox and some pencils. It is hard to take up drawing again at my age, when the only attempts you have ever made were of the boa constrictor from the outside and the boa constrictor the inside, when you were six years old! Of course, I shall try to make my portraits as true to life as I can. But I am not at all sure of succeeding. Some drawings work, others do not. Sometimes my proportions are wrong: here the little prince is too big; there he is too little. Other times I waver over the colour of his clothes. And so I fumble along, trying this and that, as best I can. I may even make mistakes as to more important details. But there you must forgive me. You see, my friend never gave explanations. Perhaps he thought I was like him. But I, unfortunately, am not able to see sheep through the walls of boxes. Perhaps I am a bit of a grown-up after all. I must be getting old.