But it so happened that, after walking for a long time through sand, and rocks, and snow, the little prince finally came upon a road. And all roads lead to people.

'Good day.' he said.

He was standing in front of a garden blooming with roses.

'Good day,' said the roses.

The little prince stared at them. They all looked just like his flower.

'Who are you?' he demanded, in astonishment.

'We are roses,' said the roses.

'Oh!' said the little prince.

And he felt extremely unhappy. His flower had told him that she was alone of her kind in the universe. And here were five thousand of them, all identical, in a single garden!

''She'd be mortified.' he said to himself, 'were she to see this. She would cough tremendously and pretend to be dying, just to avoid the ridicule. And I would have to pretend to be nursing her — otherwise she really would let herself die, to humiliate me into the bargain.'

Then he went on with his thoughts: 'I used to think myself rich, with a flower that was unique; but all I had was a common rose. That and three volcanoes, which only come up to my knees and one of those is perhaps extinct for ever. All of which does not make me a very great prince.' And, lying down in the grass, he began to cry.

And, lying down in the grass, he began to cry.