What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain — What is gone is gone. - Peter S. Beagle

I'll tell you something. Once I was very fond of a poem by Emily Dickinson or somebody. I only remember one line of it, but it goes, 'The soul selects her own society.' I used to tell it to everybody. Once I quoted it to a friend of mine, and he said, 'Maybe, but the body gets thrown into bed with the goddamnedest people.

"You were the one who taught me," he said. "I never looked at you without seeing the sweetness of the way the world goes together, or without sorrow for its spoiling. I became a hero to serve you, and all that is like you."

Unicorns know naught of shame, or need, or doubt, or debt;
But mortals, as you may have noticed, take what they can get.