Peter S. Beagle

When I was alive, I believed — as you do — that time was at least as real and solid as myself, and probably more so. I said 'one o'clock' as though I could see it, and 'Monday' as though I could find it on the map; and I let myself be hurried along from minute to minute, day to day, year to year, as though I were actually moving from one place to another. Like everyone else, I lived in a house bricked up with seconds and minutes, weekends and New Year's Days, and I never went outside until I died, because there was no other door. Now I know that I could have walked through the walls. (...) You can strike your own time, and start the count anywhere. When you understand that — then any time at all will be the right time for you.

— Peter S. Beagle

I will miss it so,” she said beside him. “This hell of a place, I will miss it so much. This fat body, walking mud puddle, deceived by everything, this impossible, ruinous accident of a world, these people who would truly rather hurt one another than eat—oh, there is nothing, nothing, nothing I would not do to stay here ten minutes longer. Oh, I will leave claw marks, I will drag mountains and forests away under my fingernails when I am dragged off. Such a stupid way to feel. I will be all dirty from clutching at this stupid planet, and the gods will laugh at me.

— Peter S. Beagle

I am no king, and I am no lord,

— Peter S. Beagle

Real magic can never be made by offering someone else's liver. You must tear out your own, and not expect to get it back.

— Peter S. Beagle

Why did they go away, do you think? If there ever were such things."

— Peter S. Beagle

You have to be very deep to be dead, he thought, and I'm not. He began to have some concept of forever, and his mind shivered as his body had when he had wakened in the cold nights and thrust his hands between his thighs to keep warm. It will be a long night, he thought.

— Peter S. Beagle

Great heroes need great sorrows and burdens, or half their greatness goes unnoticed. It is all part of the fairy tale.

— Peter S. Beagle

Whatever can die is beautiful — more beautiful than a unicorn, who lives forever, and who is the most beautiful creature in the world. Do you understand me?

— Peter S. Beagle

The Unicorn Sonata … tells us that our true home is often right around the corner, if we'd only open our eyes — and our ears — to find it.

— Peter S. Beagle

When I was very young every grownup was a hero. It's been all downhill since then, and I have only two left.

— Peter S. Beagle

The true secret in being a hero lies in knowing the order of things. … Things must happen when it is time for them to happen. Quests may not simply be abandoned; prophecies may not be left to rot like unpicked fruit; unicorns may go unrescued for a very long time, but not forever. The happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story.

— Peter S. Beagle

My people are in the world again. No sorrow will live in my heart as long as that joy — save one, and I thank you for that, too.

— Peter S. Beagle

Don't look back, and don't run. You must never run from anything immortal; it attracts their attention.

— Peter S. Beagle

Sparrows and cats will live in my shoe,

— Peter S. Beagle