The unicorn halted in her slow, desperate round of the cage, realizing for the first time that the magician understood her speech. He smiled, and she saw that his face was frighteningly young for a grown man-untraveled by time, unvisited by grief or wisdom. "I know you," he said.
Peter S. BeagleWhat do men know? Because they have seen no unicorns for a while does not mean we have all vanished.
Peter S. BeagleYour name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name.
Peter S. BeagleAll lives are composed of two basic elements," the squirrel said, "purpose and poetry. By being ourselves, squirrel and raven, we fulfill the first requirement, you in flight and I in my tree. But there is poetry in the meanest of lives, and if we leave it unsought we leave ourselves unrealized. A life without food, without shelter, without love, a life lived in the rainโthis is nothing beside a life without poetry.
Peter S. Beagle