After that, the little prince climbed a high mountain. The only mountains he had ever known were the three volcanoes, which came up to his knees. And he used the extinct volcano as a footstool. "From a mountain as high as this one," he said to himself, "I shall be able to see the whole planet at one glance, and all the people . . ."
But he saw nothing, save peaks of rock that were sharpened like needles.
"Good morning," he said courteously.
"Good morning--Good morning--Good morning," answered the echo.
"Who are you?" said the little prince.
"Who are you--Who are you--Who are you?" answered the echo.
"Be my friends. I am all alone," he said.
"I am all alone--all alone--all alone," answered the echo.
"What a queer planet!" he thought. "It is altogether dry, and altogether pointed, and altogether harsh and forbidding. And the people have no imagination. They repeat whatever one says to them . . . On my planet I had a flower; she always was the first to speak . . ."
