I am surrounded by Beauty.
Everyday.

Tell me, enigmatic man, whom do you love the best? Your father, or your mother, or your sister, or your brother?

I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother.

Your friends?

You are using a word whose meaning remains unknown to me to this very day.

Your country?

I do not know under what latitude it lies.

Beauty?

I would love her gladly, goddess and immortal.

Gold?

I hate it as much as you hate God.

Well then! What do you love, extraordinary stranger?

I love the clouds ... the passing clouds ... over there ... over there ... the marvelous clouds!

"Si quelqu'un aime une fleur qui n'existe qu'à un exemplaire dans les millions et les millions d'étoiles, ça suffit pour qu'il soit heureux quand il les regarde. Il se dit: «Ma fleur est là quelque part..."