What use is wizardry if it cannot save a Unicorn?

The tune was wailing and mournful, almost flagrantly so, and the total effect was of a heartbroken piccolo being parted forever from its bagpipe lover.

I always say perseverance is nine-tenths of any art — not that it's much help to be nine-tenths an artist, of course.

Then what is magic for?" Prince Lír demanded wildly. "What use is wizardry if it cannot save a unicorn?" He gripped the magician's shoulder hard, to keep from falling. Schmedrick did not turn his head. With a touch of sad mockery in his voice, he said, "That's what heroes are for.

Avicenna California...Museum of my twisted youth, vault of my dearest and most disgusting memories.

But what I thought, and what I still think, and always will, is that she saw me. Nobody else has ever seen me — me, Jenny Gluckstein — like that. Not my parents, not Julian, not even Meena. Love is one thing — recognition is something else.

What do men know? Because they have seen no unicorns for a while does not mean we have all vanished.