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

Claudio Bianchi did write poetry [...] He had no vanity about this, no fantasies of literary celebrity; he simply took pleasure putting words in order, exactly as he laid out seedlings in the spring, and tasting them afterward, as he tasted fresh new scallions or ripe tomatoes, or smelled mint or garlic on his hands.

Real magic can never be made by offering up someone else’s liver. You must tear out your own, and not expect to get it back. The true witches know that.” A

You must remind me, little one. When I... when I lose myself - when I lose her - you must remind me that I am still searching, still waiting... that I have never forgotten her, never turned from all she taught me. I sit in this place... I sit... because a king has to sit, you see... but in my mind, in my poor mind, I am always away with her....