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The woman I loved died because I did not love her enough - what greater sin is there than that? (Uncle Chaim and Aunt Fifke and the Angel)
Peter S. Beagle
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Peter S. Beagle
Age: 85
Born: 1939
Born: April 20
Author
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Manhattan borough
New York City
Peter Soyer Beagle
Sin
Died
Loved
Greater
Woman
Uncle
Enough
Uncles
Love
Aunt
Angel
More quotes by Peter S. Beagle
But I'm always dreaming, even when I'm awake it is never finished. -the Lady Amalthea, from The Last Unicorn
Peter S. Beagle
Beyond the town, darker than dark, King Haggard's castle teetered like a lunatic on stilts.
Peter S. Beagle
What happened instead was that the tree fell in love with him and began to murmur fondly of the joy to be found in the eternal embrace of a red oak. Always, always, it sighed, faithful beyond any man's deserving. I will keep the color of your eyes when no other in the world remembers your name. There is no immortality but a tree's love.
Peter S. Beagle
It’s a rare man who is taken for what he truly is.
Peter S. Beagle
She said, I will go no farther. There is no choice. We can only go on. The magician said again. We can only go on.
Peter S. Beagle
...no cat out of its first fur can ever be deceived by appearances. Unlike human beings, who enjoy them.
Peter S. Beagle
What do men know? Because they have seen no unicorns for a while does not mean we have all vanished.
Peter S. Beagle
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.
Peter S. Beagle
Avicenna California...Museum of my twisted youth, vault of my dearest and most disgusting memories.
Peter S. Beagle
- and you are truly human now. You can love, and fear, and forbid things to be what they are, and overact.
Peter S. Beagle
We are not always what we seem, and hardly ever what we dream.
Peter S. Beagle
Never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention.
Peter S. Beagle
You have to be very deep to be dead, he thought, and I'm not. He began to have some concept of forever, and his mind shivered as his body had when he had wakened in the cold nights and thrust his hands between his thighs to keep warm. It will be a long night, he thought.
Peter S. Beagle
The moon was gone, but to the magician's eyes the unicorn was the moon, cold and white and very old, lighting his way to safety, or to madness.
Peter S. Beagle
I know how to live here, I know how everything smells, and tastes, and is. What could I ever search for in the world, except this again?
Peter S. Beagle
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.
Peter S. Beagle
You were the one who taught me, he said. I never looked at you without seeing the sweetness of the way the world goes together, or without sorrow for its spoiling. I became a hero to serve you, and all that is like you.
Peter S. Beagle
Men have to have heroes, but no man can ever be as big as the need, and so a legend grows around a grain of truth, like a pearl.
Peter S. Beagle
Great heroes need great sorrows and burdens, or half their greatness goes unnoticed. It is all part of the fairy tale.
Peter S. Beagle
How's the Angel of Death supposed to do his job with clipped wings?
Peter S. Beagle
