Quote

We are raised to honor all the wrong explorers and discoverers thieves planting flags, murderers carrying crosses. Let us at last praise the colonizers of dreams.

Peter S. Beagle

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Peter S. Beagle
Age: 85
Born: 1939
Born: April 20
Author
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Manhattan borough
New York City
Peter Soyer Beagle
Lasts
Flags
Last
Carrying
Colonizers
History
Crosses
Discoverers
Dream
Praise
Murderers
Raised
Planting
Honor
Explorers
Dreams
Murderer
Wrong
Thieves

More quotes by Peter S. Beagle

Image
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
Image
I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, although I cannot weep, and I want nothing, and I cannot die. I am not like the others now, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but I do. I regret.
Peter S. Beagle
Image
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
Image
But I'm always dreaming, even when I'm awake it is never finished. -the Lady Amalthea, from The Last Unicorn
Peter S. Beagle
Image
We are not always what we seem, and hardly ever what we dream.
Peter S. Beagle
Image
It’s a rare man who is taken for what he truly is.
Peter S. Beagle
Image
The horns came riding in like the rainbow masts of silver ships.
Peter S. Beagle
Image
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
Image
No, he repeated, and this time the word tolled in another voice, a king's voice... whose grief was not for what he did not have, but for what he could not give.
Peter S. Beagle
Image
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
Image
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
Image
Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid of anything. Whatever you have been, you are mine now. I can hold you.
Peter S. Beagle
Image
Beyond the town, darker than dark, King Haggard's castle teetered like a lunatic on stilts.
Peter S. Beagle
Image
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
Image
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
Image
How's the Angel of Death supposed to do his job with clipped wings?
Peter S. Beagle
Image
Ravens bring things to people. We're like that. It's our nature. We don't like it.
Peter S. Beagle
Image
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
Image
What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain-- What is gone is gone.
Peter S. Beagle
Image
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