What use is magic if it can't save a unicorn?
The most professional curse ever snarled or croaked or thundered can have no effect on a pure heart.
How's the Angel of Death supposed to do his job with clipped wings?
The magician was studying her face with his green eyes. "Your face is wet," he said worriedly. "I hope that's spray. If you've become human enough to cry, then no magic in the world — oh, it must be spray. Come with me. It had better be spray.
Ravens bring things to people. We're like that. It's our nature. We don't like it.
Farewell,' she said. 'I hope you hear many more songs' - which was the best way she could think of to say good-bye to a butterfly.