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Unicorns are immortal. It is their nature to live alone in one place: usually a forest where there is a pool clear enough for them to see themselves -- for they are a little vain, knowing themselves to be the most beautiful.

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
Little
Alone
Unicorns
Enough
Knowing
Unicorn
Clear
Forest
Nature
Pool
Place
Immortal
Beautiful
Forests
Littles
Vain
Live
Usually

More quotes by Peter S. Beagle

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There are honest people in the world, but only because the devil considers their asking prices ridiculous.
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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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Never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention.
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- and you are truly human now. You can love, and fear, and forbid things to be what they are, and overact.
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A rhinoceros is as ugly as a human being, and it too is going to die, but at least it never thinks that it is beautiful.
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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)
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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
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I love whom I love, Prince Lir repeated firmly. You have no power over anything that matters.
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Avicenna California...Museum of my twisted youth, vault of my dearest and most disgusting memories.
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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.
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There are no happy endings, because nothing ends.
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Beyond the town, darker than dark, King Haggard's castle teetered like a lunatic on stilts.
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But what I thought, and what I still think, and always will, is that she saw me. Nobody else has ever seen me — me, Jenny Gluckstein — like that. Not my parents, not Julian, not even Meena. Love is one thing — recognition is something else.
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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The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea.
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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But I still feel I waste a lot of time leaning on my elbow and thinking to myself, 'alright sucker, now what?'
Peter S. Beagle
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What use is magic if it can't save a unicorn?
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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I always say perseverance is nine-tenths of any art — not that it's much help to be nine-tenths an artist, of course.
Peter S. Beagle