“Please tame me…” said the fox.

“One only knows the things one has tamed,” said the fox.

“These days, people buy everything already made in shops.

But there are no shops that sell friends.

So people have no friends.

If you want a friend, tame me.”

“You need a great deal of patience,” the fox replied.

“First, you must sit over there in the grass, a little apart from me.

I will steal a glance at you, and you will say nothing.

Words are the source of misunderstandings.

And as you do so, you can sit a little closer to me each day…”

“It would have been better if you had come at the same time,” said the fox.

“If you come at four in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to feel happy.

As four o'clock draws nearer, I shall grow happier and happier.

At four o'clock, I shall already be excited and nervous.

I shall come to know the price of happiness.

But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour to prepare my heart…”