Books Like Little Prince Novels & Stories

I need to take time. I remember the small room I entered last time. I slowly opened the door and turned on the lampshade. The books on the table were still scattered. I tried to look and read each one of them. These are all interesting books. Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer, The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and a lot more. I tried to find something that might help me, but I found nothing.

Zee's POV "There was a hand upon the chains that were self-inflicted upon Him— The Little Prince, O Great Morning Star— And He looked up— And saw the face of a little brother most mischievous And despair He did no longer." ~The Book of Lost Days Lilith 3:1

In boredom while looking outside, the young prince never did join his company with their animated exchange of words. Rather he suited himself in listening to them. Strangely, his ears would perked up when the tribe princess would began to respond to the inquiries of the eldest prince. “I read tons of book when ye are away.” The tribe princess responded to Woon. “What kind of book do ye read? Might I lend you some of mine.” Sue joined in. “No particular kind, really. But I love the recent book that I am reading now.” She commented.

etc. I spent five hours in front of the desk and under the light of the lamp in different positions, nourishing my intellect with those books. I read about German history and a very interesting legend about a princess who was raised as a bird by vultures, eventually becoming a falcon. A princess who was held captive so she would never escape the nest. A princess with white wings and eyes with the entrance to paradise. A princess who was pushed out of the nest before being taught to fly.

he questions. I nod my head. "Yes," I say again. "I've always loved reading." "Book," he says in a gruff voice. "Liffatin. Can you repeat that back to me?"Liffatin," I repeat. "That's a beautiful word. You know, back in my kingdom there was a little shop called a library and it harbored many, many books. Some were sad, some were happy, some were full of action and tales of courageous princes and princesses, fictional tales of fire-breathing dragons and fairies and demons. A book is where imagination takes flight."

She smiled and nodded. “Go ahead, Eliana’s daddy.” With trembling hands, Hunter took the storybook from his daughter and followed her to her room. He sat by the bed while Eliana lay down, hugging her doll. “It’s called The Prince Who Came Back to the Castle,” Eliana said. Hunter opened the first page. “Once upon a time… there was a prince who wandered too far from his castle. He forgot who he was, forgot who he loved… But one day, he came back. And found that his home… had always been waiting for him.”

I was just waiting for him to come back or visit me again. I got so bored that I asked the servant for permission to read those books on shelves. Surprisingly, he answered instantly, “The Royal Prince has said that you can do whatever you want and use anything you like. If you want to eat something particular, you can order that too. He just requested you not to leave the cottage.” ‘Not to leave the cottage? Why? Is he worried that I will get lost again?’ I thought to myself while searching for a good book from the bookshelves. There were numerous good classics. Picking up a historical fiction, I settled on the small divan on the balcony.

It wasn't until I got closer that she looked up and asked, "Mom, have you read 'The Little Prince'? If the fox was so good to him, why did he still choose the rose in the end?" "Because she was his cherished rose, unique and irreplaceable," I answered. Lily looked at me, her eyes blank, still too young to grasp the meaning of my words. I smiled and took her hand. "When you're a little older, Lily, you'll understand what I mean." Shawn stood silently beside us, saying nothing. But as we left the mall, he handed Lily a brand-new copy of 'The Little Prince.' Through the car window, I gave him a parting nod.

The chandelier light glinted off her hair, casting a golden halo that made my throat tighten. When we returned to the living room, everyone was deep in conversation, and Anneliese was gesturing enthusiastically as she recounted, down to the last detail, one of my most embarrassing childhood stories to Pietra. “…and then the little prince decided he could climb the library shelves with a bedsheet as a cape, thinking he was Batman!” she finished, laughing loudly. Pietra was laughing too, her eyes sparkling, and even though she tried to keep a straight face, she couldn’t hide the joy of the moment.

To stay away from everyone, to keep them all in the dark about how fucked up my life is right now. I look at my bookshelf and smile when I find my favorite childhood book. Little prince. I grab it and cuddle up on my bed with the book. I pull the blanket up to my waist and open the book on the first page. I can’t remember the last time I read this book, but I know it will bring me back to memories from when I was a kid because I remember reading it to Layla.