There's a line in the Bible about perfect love casting out fear. That I don't know about, but orneriness will do it every time.
There's more meaning than magic to this
They broaden our outlook… set us to looking inward…
They may be apart sometimes, they may come and go as they choose--what can love be like when you live forever?--but they wait for each other, they find each other, they are together always!
This body is dying. I can feel it rotting all around me. How can anything that is going to die be real? How can it be truly beautiful?
This body is dying. I can feel it rotting all around me.
This world, that world, doesn't matter. You never make people to see what you see, hear, feel what you feel. Notes don't do it, words don't do it, paints, bronze, marble, nothing. All you can do, you...
Traditionally, people are always supposed to feel empty, devastated, when a god leaves them. Nobody seems to wonder how the god might feel. Leaving the only people who almost understood.
Unicorn, mermaid, lamia, sorceress, Gorgon—no name you give her would surprise me, or frighten me. I love whom I love.
Unicorns know naught of shame, or need, or doubt, or debt;But mortals, as you may have noticed, take what they can get.
And even the feral, near-wild Third Cat, whose true name he had never discovered, as one has to do with cats, trailed
We are all ghosts, Morris Klapper said at last. We are conceived in a moment of death and born out of ghost wombs, and we play in the streets with other little ghosts, chanting ghost-rhymes and scratc...
You ever want to see real witchcraft, you watch people protecting their comfort, their beliefs.
We are used men, spent men—but if you would see miracles, you have only to request the impossible of us. We will become young again if you wish it so.
We give them different names, those nights lit only by fire and the moon, depending on the country and the calendar, but we know what they are. They call up the world that was before the Lord came dow...
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'...
What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain-- What is gone is gone.
What magical thing could you want so badly that they take you away from the known world for wanting it?
What use is wizardry if it cannot save a unicorn? He gripped the magician's shoulder hard, to keep from falling. Shchmendrick did not turn his head. With a touch of sad mockery in his voice, he said,...
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?
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