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

But what I thought, and what I still think, and always will, is that she saw me. Nobody else has ever seen me — me, Jenny Gluckstein — like that. Not my parents, not Julian, not even Meena. Love is one thing — recognition is something else.

I suppose I could understand it if men had simply forgotten unicorns, or if they had changed so that they hated all unicorns now and tried to kill them when they saw them. But not to see them at all, to look at them and see something else-what do they look like to one another, then? What do trees look like to them, or houses, or real horses, or their own children?

She touched you twice,' he said in a little while. 'The first touch was to bring you to life again, but the second was for you.