Avicenna California...Museum of my twisted youth, vault of my dearest and most disgusting memories. Peter S. Beagle More Quotes by Peter S. Beagle More Quotes From Peter S. Beagle 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 calmcatpay It's really not so good to have time. Rush, scramble, desperation, this missed, that left behind, those others too big to fit into such a small space--that's the way life was meant to be. You're supposed to be too late for some things. Don't worry about it. Peter S. Beagle spaceworryway We are not always what we seem, and hardly ever what we dream. Peter S. Beagle broken-dreamsunicorndream What do men know? Because they have seen no unicorns for a while does not mean we have all vanished. Peter S. Beagle doemenmean Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name. Peter S. Beagle piecesnamesheart There are honest people in the world, but only because the devil considers their asking prices ridiculous. Peter S. Beagle devilhonestypeople 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 mineshas-beensfear Unicorn. Old French, unicorne. Latin, unicornis. Literally, one-horned: unus, one and cornu,a horn. A fabulous animal resembling a horse with one horn. Peter S. Beagle horselatinanimal And what good is it to me that you're here now? Where where you twenty years ago, ten years ago? How dare you, how dare you come to me now, when I am this? Peter S. Beagle daretwentiesyears 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. Peter S. Beagle uglybeautifulthinking ...because in a way it happened to someone else. I don't really speak that person's language anymore, and when I think about her, she embarrasses me sometimes, but I don't want to forget her, I don't want to pretend she never existed. So before I start forgetting, I have to get down exactly who she was, and exactly how she felt about everything. She was me a lot longer than I've been me so far. Peter S. Beagle wantwaythinking there never is a happy ending because nothing ever ends. Peter S. Beagle happy-endingsends I am a king's daughter, And if I cared to care, The moon that has no mistress Would flutter in my hair. No one dares to cherish What I choose to crave. Never have I hungered, For that I did not have I am a kings daughter, And I grow old within The prison of my person, The shackles of my skin. And I would run away And beg from door to door, Just to see your shadow Once, and never more. Peter S. Beagle daughterkingsrunning What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain-- What is gone is gone. Peter S. Beagle stolengrowsgone I am afraid! It is not starving I fear, or talking to people, or even being alone. But I cannot bear to be useless and ineffectual. There must be some meaning to me, if not to my life; there must surely be some purpose that has my name written on it. If this is not so, if I am deceiving myself about this too, then why should I want to become real? What reason have I to live anywhere? Peter S. Beagle realnamestalking 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 choicesgoes-onsaid 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 catanswerswant 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 heropatiencelying Her face was a stranger’s face, which was as it should be. Love each other from the day we are born to the day we die, we are still strangers every minute, and nobody should forget that, even though we have to. Peter S. Beagle strangerfacesforget The Unicorn Sonata... tells us that our true home is often right around the corner, if we'd only open our eyes - and our ears - to find it. Peter S. Beagle eyeearshome
