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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 74a4654 | I'm here doing something to apologize, because I know that I handled yesterday badly. I pushed too hard, too fast, and stormed off in a temper when you needed me to slow down. It won't happen again. I'd like to turn back the clock to Saturday night, when we were talking, hanging out. I promise not to try to get you back into the woods." He paused. "For at least forty-eight hours." I laughed. "So you on a schedule." "No, I'm impatient. But.. | Kelley Armstrong | ||
| fed4ef8 | I promise not to try to get you back into the woods." He paused. "For at least forty-eight hours." I laughed. "So you on a schedule." "No, I'm impatient." | Kelley Armstrong | ||
| 4dc00e0 | I promise not to try to get you back into the woods." He paused. "For at least forty-eight hours." I laughed. "So you on a schedule." "No, I'm impatient. But I will wait." "For forty-eight hours. And if there's no make-out session by then, time's up." "No. I said I won't for forty-eight hours. What happens after that is up to you." | Kelley Armstrong | ||
| 311013b | I've always thought cemeteries were like cities. There are streets, avenues--you've seen them, I think, Michael. There are blocks, too, and house numbers, slums and ghettos, middle-class sections and small palaces. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 45c8240 | As to your first question, no cat out of its first fur can ever be deceived by appearances. Unlike human beings, who enjoy them. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| d016fa8 | You deserve the services of a great wizard," he said to the unicorn, "but I'm afraid you'll have to be glad of the aid of a second-rate pickpocket." | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 1641c71 | He ran," the unicorn said. "You must never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention." Her voice was gentle, and without pity. "Never run," she said. "Walk slowly, and pretend to be thinking of something else. Sing a song, say a poem, do your tricks, but walk slowly and she may not follow. Walk very slowly, magician." | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 32f70e8 | She leaned forward and put her arms around me. Sometimes it used to make me prickly when she did that, and I'd turn into a bag of knees and elbows. . . | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| e6a7dd9 | When I was eighteen or twenty, I knew everything except what I wanted. I knew all about people, and poetry, and love, and music, and politics, and baseball, and history, and I played pretty good jazz piano. And then I went traveling, because I felt that I might have missed something and it would be a good idea to learn it before I got my master's degree. (...) And the older I grew, and the farther I traveled, the younger I grew and the less.. | traveling wisdom youth | Peter S. Beagle | |
| c50fd25 | Unicorn, mermaid, lamia, sorceress, Gorgon--no name you give her would surprise me, or frighten me. I love whom I love. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 27dcabb | When the wind changes, and you smell the new moon and dance off over the hills and far away, the only heart broken around here will be the goat's. I want you to understand that. You are a miracle, yes, truly--the one miracle of my life--but miracles do not break the heart. Foolish, ridiculous things do that, songs do that, smells do that, everyday stupidities do that... | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 873a7f2 | I promised only that you would see some sign of unicorns, and so you have. Your realm is blessed beyond any land's deserving because they have passed across it in freedom. 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. Think of that, and be still. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 446b812 | As for you and your heart and the things you said and the didn't say, she will remember them all when men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| e6c4e2b | and even the feral, near-wild Third Cat, whose true name he had never discovered, as one has to do with cats, trailed | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| aa2324e | How can we delight in our good fortune when we know that it must end, and that one of us will end it? Every day makes us richer, and brings us one day nearer to our doom. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 6d3d6bf | And Hagsgate, alas, paid her no heed. She was treated politely and referred to the proper authorities, whereupon she flew into a fury and screamed that in our eagerness to make no enemies at all, we had now made two. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 9cded90 | Prodigies began to waken somewhere southwest of his twelfth rib, and he himself- still mirroring the Lady Amalthea- began to shine. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 35d51a6 | my experience is that if you need a wagonload of weaponry to feel secure, you are likely doomed before your bespoke sword clears the scabbard. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| ca5dcc1 | This body is dying. I can feel it rotting all around me. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 6574ce4 | After the third [San Miguel], I am likely to announce that all writing is fantasy anyway: that to set any event down in print is immediately to begin to lie about it, thank goodness; and that it's no less absurd and presumptuous to try on the skin of a bank teller than that of a Bigfoot or a dragon. | authorship fantasy writing | Peter S. Beagle | |
| eaedffe | There was nothing for it now but to throw himself on Campos's mercy, and it had been Mr. Rebeck's experience of mercy that it had a tendency to buckle under the weight of a human soul. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 7399353 | We are what we are forever, unchanging--you are everything all at once, past and present and future all rioting together. I pity you terribly, I could never bear to be like you, but I wonder and wonder about you. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 0dd7b27 | 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, "That's what heroes are for." | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| edbb488 | It would be a crime to eat such a mouse!" he proclaimed everywhere. "An absolute, shameful, yummy crime." | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| ae5b0ae | You may plant your acres again, and raise up your fallen orchards and vineyards, but they will never flourish as they used to, never--until you learn to take joy in them, for no reason." He" | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 9d3d713 | I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, though 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." Schmendrick" | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| d02f1fa | If I danced with my feet As I did in my dreaming, As graceful and gleaming As death in disguise -- Oh, that would be sweet, But then would I hunger To be ten years younger, Or wedded, or wise? | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| e924b46 | found herself looking into the face of Prince Lir. Behind him there fell a bright | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| a03d67d | Ma Molly lo spinse da parte e ando verso l'unicorno, sgridandola come se fosse una mucca da latte smarrita. - Dove sei stata? -. Davanti al suo candore e al corno rilucente, Molly rimpiccioli come un trillante insetto, ma stavolta furono gli antichi occhi neri dell'unicorno che guardarono in basso. - Ora sono qui - disse alla fine. Molly rise con le sue labbra sottili. - E che me ne faccio del fatto che tu sei qui ora? Dov'eri venti anni fa.. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| ea07861 | I had a good time that night, too," Michael said, "but I kept thinking, This is forever. This is forever. You will have this good time again and again, a million times over, until it will be like a play in which you and Laura and a few fugitive lives sit around an imaginary fire and talk and sing songs and love each other and sometimes throw imaginary brands at the eyes blinking beyond the circle of imaginary firelight. And then I thought -.. | eternity forever fugitive-lives imaginary-firelight jonathan-rebeck laura-durand michael-morgan | Peter S. Beagle | |
| 3748ed7 | the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem, and hardly ever what we dream. Still | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 6875f61 | The air was motionless, carved, a block of warm copper fitting neatly around the earth, molded while soft to fit every house and every human being on the earth, and now hardened forever so that no man could move and no air ever came through. The earth rumbled down its alley like a golden bowling ball, shining. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 0d24b51 | 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 scratching to become real. We are told that life is full of goals and that, although it is sadly necessary to fight, you can at least choose your war. But we learn that for ghosts there can only be one battle: to become real. A few of us make it, t.. | ghosts goals morris-klapper necessary-to-fight real to-become-real war | Peter S. Beagle | |
| af540d4 | Velikite geroi se nuzhdaiat ot velika skr'b i breme, inache polovinata im velichie ostava nezabeliazano.Vsichko e chast ot prikazkata. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| ac93fb2 | Ne vinagi sme z'rnatoto ot ochite, i nikoga pochti - vidianoto v mechtite. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| d6240e6 | Na khorata im triabvat geroi, no nikoi chovek ne mozhe da b'de tolkova goliam, kolkoto neobkhodimostta ot nego, i taka legendata se nasloiava okolo pes'chinka istina kato perla. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| cb3581a | Koito ima izbor, ne izbira. Izbira onzi, koito niama. Vsichko, shcho obichame, umira - otminaloto ne ostava. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| a747165 | No, my lady, you are wrong! Death lives among the poor. Death lives in the foulest, darkest alleys of this city, in some vile, rat-ridden hovel that smells of-" He stopped here, partly because he had never been inside such a hut or thought of wondering what it smelled like. "Death lives among the poor," he went on, "and comes to visit them every day, for he is their only friend." | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| f6e2b4c | Ako me beshe dokosnala - kaza mnogo tikho, - shchiakh da prinadlezha na neia, a ne na sebe si, zavinagi.Iskakh da me dokosne, no ne mozhekh da i go pozvolia.Nikoia kotka niama da go napravi.Pozvoliavame na khorata da ni galiat, zashchoto e dostat'chno priiatno i gi uspokoiava - no ne i na neia.Tsenata e po-visoka, otkolkoto mozhe da plati edna kotka. | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 1a81ba5 | If there is one thing in this world that I was raised and trained to know, it is that there is only so much you may ask of the gods. Victory in battle is their lightest gift; a quiet heart is your own concern. | ask asking nyateneri soukyan the-gods training victory victory-in-battle your-own-concern | Peter S. Beagle | |
| 772a48d | Oh but I do remember her - as I shouldn't, for any number of reasons - with her ragged, grayinghair sticking out on all sides, her mouth glorious with mockery and her body wearing blood-flecked sweat as a queen wears velvet. Want her? Did I still her? I wanted to her, do you understand me? Do you understand? | Peter S. Beagle | ||
| 40f5e89 | I am a good runner. There are many faster, but not so many for whom it has been as necessary to learn to become nothing but flight. | fast faster fastest good-runner lal lal-after-dark lal-alone lalkhamsin-khamsolal necessary nothing-but-flight runner running sailor-lal swordcane-lal | Peter S. Beagle | |
| 4331ad9 | I was facing him before the last word was out, but I should have been dead by then. In a way I did die, right there, all that time ago, and this is a ghost who has been telling you stories and drinking your wine. You don't understand. Never mind. | dying ghosts lal lal-after-dark lal-alone lalkhamsin-khamsolal never-mind sailor-lal stories swordcane-lal telling-stories wine | Peter S. Beagle | |
| 79c9ede | E raro che un uomo sia preso per quello che e veramente - disse. - Nel mondo spesso si commettono sbagli di valutazione. Ora, io ti ho riconosciuto come unicorno gia quando ti ho visto la prima volta, e so di essere tuo amico. Invece tu mi hai preso per un buffone, o uno stupido, o un traditore, e questo devo essere se mi vedi cosi. La magia su di te e solo magia e svanira appena sarai libera, ma l'incantesimo dell'errata opinione che tu po.. | Peter S. Beagle |