If someone loves a flower, that which just one example exists among all the millions and millions of stars, that's enough to make him happy when he looks at the stars. He tells himself, my flower's up there somewhere. But if the sheep eats the flower, then for him its as if all the stars went out, and that isn't important?
He couldn't say another word.
All of a sudden he burst out sobbing. Night had fallen. I dropped my tools. What did I care about my hammer? About my bolt, about thirst and death? There was on one star, on one planet, on mine, the Earth, a little prince to be consoled. I took him in my arms. I rocked him. I told him, 'the flower you love is not in danger. I'll draw you a muzzle for my sheep. I'll draw you a fence for your flower. I.... I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to reach him, where to find him. It's so mysterious, the land of tears.―Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,