I am no king, and I am no lord, And I am no soldier at-arms," said he. "I'm none but a harper, and a very poor harper, That am come hither to wed with ye." "If you were a lord, you should be my lord, And the same if you were a thief," said she. "And if you are a harper, you shall be my harper, For it makes no matter to me, to me, For it makes no matter to me." "But what if it prove that I am no harper? That I lied for your love most monstrously?" "Why, then I'll teach you to play and sing, For I dearly love a good harp," said she.

As for you and your heart and the things you said and didn't say, she will remember them all when men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits.

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

Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name.

They know these mornings well and love them desperately because they cannot last - these people who know that nothing lasts.

I fear it, for her sake. It would mean that she too is a wanderer now, and that is a fate for human beings, not for unicorns. But I hope, of course I hope.

Beyond the town, darker than dark, King Haggard's castle teetered like a lunatic on stilts.