I’m a magician with no magic, and that’s no one at all. - Peter S. Beagle

"The unicorn was so startled and so happy to hear her name spoken at last that she overlooked the remark about the horse. "Oh, you know me!" she cried, and the breath of her delight blew the butterfly twenty feet away."

"song of elli (old age)

"What is plucked will grow again,
What is slain lives on,
What is stolen will remain
What is gone is gone...
What is sea-born dies on land,
Soft is trod upon.
What is given burns the hand -
What is gone is gone...
Here is there, and high is low;
All may be undone.
What is true, no two men know -
What is gone is gone...
Who has choices need not choose.
We must, who have none.
We can love but what we lose -
What is gone is gone.

She did not look anything like a horned horse, as unicorns are often pictured, being smaller and cloven-hoofed, and possessing that oldest, wildest grace that horses have never had, that deer have only in a shy, thin imitation and goats in dancing mockery.