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I am infected with life and will die of it in time.

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
Time
Life
Infected
Dies

More quotes by Peter S. Beagle

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Ah, love may be strong, but a habit is stronger, And I knew when I loved by the way I behaved.
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They know these mornings well and love them desperately because they cannot last - these people who know that nothing lasts.
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Sing to me, she said. That would be valiant, to raise your voice in this dark, lonely place, and it will be useful as well. Sing to me, sing loudly-drown out my dreams, keep me from remembering whatever wants me to remember it. Sing to me, my lord prince, if it please you. It may not seem a hero's task, but I would be glad of it.
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My son, your ineptitude is so vast, your incompetence so profound, that I am certain you are inhabited by greater power than I have ever known.
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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.
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What use is magic if it can't save a unicorn?
Peter S. Beagle
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Her voice left a flavor of honey and gunpowder on the air.
Peter S. Beagle
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Beyond the town, darker than dark, King Haggard's castle teetered like a lunatic on stilts.
Peter S. Beagle
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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.
Peter S. Beagle
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The true secret in being a hero lies in knowing the order of things...Things must happen when it is time for them to happen.
Peter S. Beagle
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I love whom I love, Prince Lir repeated firmly. You have no power over anything that matters.
Peter S. Beagle
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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.
Peter S. Beagle
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I am what I am. I would tell you what you want to know if I could, for you have been kind to me. But I am a cat, and no cat anywhere ever gave anyone a straight answer.
Peter S. Beagle
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How's the Angel of Death supposed to do his job with clipped wings?
Peter S. Beagle
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If she had touched me, he said very softly, I would have been hers and not my own, not ever again. I wanted her to touch me but I could not let her. No cat will. We let human beings caress us because it is pleasant enough and calms them - but not her. The price is more than a cat can pay.
Peter S. Beagle
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Never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention.
Peter S. Beagle
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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
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...but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes.
Peter S. Beagle
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Whatever can die is beautiful — more beautiful than a unicorn, who lives forever, and who is the most beautiful creature in the world. Do you understand me?
Peter S. Beagle
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Avicenna California...Museum of my twisted youth, vault of my dearest and most disgusting memories.
Peter S. Beagle