He says that there is no such thing as a cat — it is just a shape that all manner of imps, hobs, and devilkins like to put on, to gain easy entrance … - Peter S. Beagle

The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea.

Ah, love may be strong, but a habit is stronger,
And I knew when I loved by the way I behaved.

What is plucked will grow again,
What is slain lives on,
What is stolen will remain — What is gone is gone.