This creature is the Pooka. Pay no mind to the shape he wears, for heโs none of his own, and no soul either. Ware him ever, trust him never, but when the windโs right he has his uses. Never forget that you will never know him. The Pookaโs mystery even to the Pooka.
Peter S. BeagleHe had never missed God or the hope of heaven, but he had dearly wanted confession to rest his mind, Communion to let him touch something beyond Father Krone's dry, shaky hand, and holy water to taste like starlight.
Peter S. Beagle...but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes.
Peter S. BeagleBut I must go on," said the Lady Amalthea, "for it is never finished. Even when I wake, I cannot tell what is real, and what I am dreaming as I move and speak and eat my dinner. I remember what cannot have happened, and forget something that is happening to me know. People look at me as though I should know them, and I do know them in the dream, and always the fire draws me nearer, though I am awakeโ
Peter S. Beagle