85 Quotes & Sayings By Peter S Beagle

Peter S. Beagle is the author of the novels "A Fine and Private Place", "The Last Unicorn", "Tamsin", and "The Innkeeper's Song". His short stories have appeared in the "Best American Short Stories" anthology, in "Other Voices, Other Rooms" (winner of the World Fantasy Award), in the collections "The Last Unicorn" and "Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang", and in "Fables for Our Time". He is also the author of the memoir, "The Last Unicorn: A Memoir" Read more

Beagle has written several plays, including the musical adaptation of his novel, The Last Unicorn. His work has been translated into more than thirty languages.

1
I am no king, and I am no lord, And I am no soldier at-arms, " said he." I'm none but a harper, and a very poor harper, That am come hither to wed with ye."" If you were a lord, you should be my lord, And the same if you were a thief, " said she." And if you are a harper, you shall be my harper, For it makes no matter to me, to me, For it makes no matter to me."" But what if it prove that I am no harper? That I lied for your love most monstrously?"" Why, then I'll teach you to play and sing, For I dearly love a good harp, " said she. Peter S. Beagle
2
Marveling at his own boldness, he said softly, "I would enter your sleep if I could, and guard you there, and slay the thing that hounds you, as I would if it had the courage to face me in fair daylight. But I cannot come in unless you dream of me. Peter S. Beagle
Great heroes need great sorrows and burdens, or half their...
3
Great heroes need great sorrows and burdens, or half their greatness goes unnoticed. It is all part of the fairy tale. Peter S. Beagle
Real magic can never be made by offering someone else's...
4
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
5
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
The magician stood erect, menacing the attackers with demons, metamorphoses,...
6
The magician stood erect, menacing the attackers with demons, metamorphoses, paralyzing ailments, and secret judo holds. Molly picked up a rock. Peter S. Beagle
Envy nobody. It is the true secret of happiness, or...
7
Envy nobody. It is the true secret of happiness, or at least the only one I know. (By Moonlight) Peter S. Beagle
Whatever can die is beautiful – more beautiful than a...
8
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
9
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
10
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
Sparrows and cats will live in my shoe, Sooner than...
11
Sparrows and cats will live in my shoe, Sooner than I will live with you. Fish will come walking out of the sea, Sooner than you will come back to me. Peter S. Beagle
12
When I was eighteen or twenty, I knew everything except what I wanted. I knew all about people, and poetry, and love, and music, and politics, and baseball, and history, and I played pretty good jazz piano. And then I went traveling, because I felt that I might have missed something and it would be a good idea to learn it before I got my master's degree. (..) And the older I grew, and the farther I traveled, the younger I grew and the less I knew. I could feel it happening to me. I could actually walk down a dirty street and feel all my wisdom slipping away from me, all the things I wrote term papers about. Peter S. Beagle
13
Why did they go away, do you think? If there ever were such things."" Who knows? Times change. Would you call this age a good one for unicorns?"" No, but I wonder if any man before us ever thought his time a good time for unicorns. Peter S. Beagle
There is an old saying that there is no country...
14
There is an old saying that there is no country as unhappy as one that need heroes."( King Pelles the Sure) Peter S. Beagle
15
I think that love is stronger than habits or circumstances. I think it is possible to keep yourself for someone for a long time, and still remember why you were waiting when she comes at last.... I would enter your sleep if I could, and guard you there, and slay the thing that hounds you, as I would if it had the courage to face me in fair daylight. But I cannot come in unless you dream of me. Peter S. Beagle
16
My son, your ineptitude is so vast, your incompetence so profound, that I am certain you are inhabited by greater power than I have ever known. Unfortunately, it seems to be working backward at the moment, and even I can find no way to set it right. It must be that you are meant to find your own way to reach your power in time; but frankly, you should live so long as that will take you. Therefore I grant it that you shall not age from this day forth, but will travel the world round and round, eternally inefficient, until at last you come to yourself and know what you are. Don't thank me. I tremble at your doom. Peter S. Beagle
Any woman can weep without tears,
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Any woman can weep without tears, " she answered over her shoulder, "and most can heal with their hands. It depends on the wound. She is a woman, Your Highness, and that's riddle enough Peter S. Beagle
It's not you worries me. The king is a good...
18
It's not you worries me. The king is a good man, and an old friend, but it has been a long time, and kings change. Even more than other people, kings change. Peter S. Beagle
19
The tune was wailing and mournful, almost flagrantly so, and the total effect was of a heartbroken piccolo being parted forever from its bagpipe lover. Peter S. Beagle
20
The last unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. Peter S. Beagle
21
I'll tell you something. Once I was very fond of a poem by Emily Dickinson or somebody. I only remember one line of it, but it goes, 'The soul selects her own society.' I used to tell it to everybody. Once I quoted it to a friend of mine, and he said, 'Maybe, but the body gets thrown into bed with the goddamnedest people. Peter S. Beagle
22
But some, a very come to the gods all on their own They find their way–long and far it is, sometimes–and they wander up to the altars, shy and clumsy and embarrassed and alone, and when they can get the words out, they say, 'Well. Here I am Peter S. Beagle
23
The writing of fantasy is best left to those who have nothing better to do, as is indicated by the fairy tales of otherwise gifted writers like Robert Graves and John Ciardi. It isn't so much the difficulty of doing it right, without falling off the tightrope into the cold pits of allegory or mindless whimsy‌–‌the weary thing is that even if you bring it off, all you've done is write a fantasy, and so what? Life is dangerous, and escapism has become a dirty word. I feel the same way, being a child of my own critical times. I'd write the other stuff, the real books, if I could. Plenty nitty-gritty. If I could. Peter S. Beagle
24
After the third [San Miguel], I am likely to announce that all writing is fantasy anyway: that to set any event down in print is immediately to begin to lie about it, thank goodness; and that it's no less absurd and presumptuous to try on the skin of a bank teller than that of a Bigfoot or a dragon. Peter S. Beagle
25
My son, your ineptitude is so vast, your incompetence so profound, that I am certain you are inhabited by greater power than I have ever known. Peter S. Beagle
26
You think this is living? This is eating, nothing else. Peter S. Beagle
27
So I had something to do, something I'd done, someplace to go, and something to look forward to. That's a reasonable way to live. I enjoyed myself living. I had a good time. How much else can you ask for?"" A lot more, " Laura said softly, "if you're greedy. I was greedy once."" So was I, but that was a long time ago. You're greediest when you're born, and after that it's downhill all the way. Live to be two hundred and you wouldn't demand anything. Peter S. Beagle
28
There are no happy endings, he knew, because nothing ends; and if there were any being dispensed, a great many worthier people would be in line for them long before Michael and Laura and himself. But the happiness of the unworthy and the happiness of the so-so is as fragile and self-centered and dear as the happiness of the righteous and the worthy; and the happiness of the living is no less short and desperate and forgotten than the joys of the dead. Peter S. Beagle
29
He is a great enough magician to tap our most common nightmares, daydreams and twilight fancies, but he never invented them either: he found them a place to live, a green alternative to each day's madness here in a poisoned world. We are raised to honor all the wrong explorers and discoverers - thieves planting flags, murderers carrying crosses. Let us at last praise the colonizers of dreams. Peter S. Beagle
30
I love you, more, I think, than I know, but our kind of love isn't a sword. It's a light. Not a fire. A small light, just bright enough to read love letters by and keep the animals at a growling distance. In time it will go out. All lights go out. So do all fires, if it's any comfort. Love me, and look at me, and remember me, as I'll remember you. Peter S. Beagle
31
We are raised to honor all the wrong explorers and discoverers - thieves planting flags, murderers carrying crosses. Let us at last praise the colonizers of dreams. Peter S. Beagle
32
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? Peter S. Beagle
33
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.... Peter S. Beagle
34
And at last she woke up in the middle of one warm night and said, "Yes, but now. Peter S. Beagle
35
Oh, more people than not have some magic, they just forget about it. Children use it all the time - what do you think jump rope rhymes are, or bouncing ball games, or cat's cradles? Where do you think that girl, Aiffe, draws her power? Because she refuses to forget, that's all it is. Peter S. Beagle
36
Unicorns are immortal. It is their nature to live alone in one place: usually a forest where there is a pool clear enough for them to see themselves-for they are a little vain, knowing themselves to be the most beautiful creatures in all the world, and magic besides. They mate very rarely, and no place is more enchanted than one where a unicorn has been born. The last time she had seen another unicorn the young virgins who still came seeking her now and then had called to her in a different tongue; but then, she had no idea of months and years and centuries, or even of seasons. It was always spring in her forest, because she lived there, and she wandered all day among the great beech trees, keeping watch over the animals that lived in the ground and under bushes, in nests and caves, earths and treetops. Generation after generation, wolves and rabbits alike, they hunted and loved and had children and died, and as the unicorn did none of these things, she never grew tired of watching them. Peter S. Beagle
37
I’m a magician with no magic, and that’s no one at all. Peter S. Beagle
38
Ravens bring things to people. We're like that. It's our nature. We don't like it. Peter S. Beagle
39
Walking by yourself in the rain is for college kids who think loneliness makes poets. Peter S. Beagle
40
We are all ghosts, " Morris Klapper said at last. "We are conceived in a moment of death and born out of ghost wombs, and we play in the streets with other little ghosts, chanting ghost-rhymes and scratching to become real. We are told that life is full of goals and that, although it is sadly necessary to fight, you can at least choose your war. But we learn that for ghosts there can only be one battle: to become real. A few of us make it, thus encouraging other ghosts to believe it can be done. Peter S. Beagle
41
When we go to the fair in disguise, we never win at archery or at singlestick. We do get some nice compliments on our disguises, but no more than that. Peter S. Beagle
42
I will kill you if you set me free, ' the eyes said. 'Set me free. Peter S. Beagle
43
Under the moon, the road that ran from the edge of her forest gleamed like water, but when she stepped out onto it, away from the trees, she felt how hard it was, and how long. She almost turned back then; but instead she took a deep breath of the woods air that still drifted to her, and held it in her mouth like a flower, as long as she could. Peter S. Beagle
44
There are honest people in the world, but only because the devil considers their asking prices ridiculous. Peter S. Beagle
45
Man searches constantly for identity, he thought as he trotted along the gravel path. He has no real proof of this existence except for the reaction of other people to that fact. So he listens very closely to what people say to one another about him, whether it's good or bad, because it indicates that he lives in the same world they do, and that all his fears about being invisible, impotent, lacking some mysterious dimension that other people have, are groundless. Peter S. Beagle
46
- and you are truly human now. You can love, and fear, and forbid things to be what they are, and overact. Peter S. Beagle
47
We don't steal from the rich and give to the poor. We steal from the poor because they can't fight back --most of them-- and the rich take from us because they could wipe us out in a day. Peter S. Beagle
48
The woman I loved died because I did not love her enough - what greater sin is there than that?"( Uncle Chaim and Aunt Fifke and the Angel) Peter S. Beagle
49
When I was a young man and very well thought of, I couldn't ask aught that the ladies denied. I nibbled their hearts like a handful of raisins, And I never spoke love but I knew that I lied. But I said to myself, 'Ah, they none of them know The secret I shelter and savor and save I wait for the one who will see through my seeming, And I'll know when I love by the way I behave.' The years drifted over like clouds in the heavens; The ladies went by me like snow on the wind. I charmed and I cheated, deceived and dissembled, And I sinned, and I sinned, and I sinned, and I sinned. But I said to myself, 'Ah, they none of them see There's part of me pure as the whisk of a wave. My lady is late but she'll find I've been faithful, And I'll know when I love by the way I behave.' At last came a lady both knowing and tender, Saying, 'you're not at all what they take you to be.' I betrayed her before she had quite finished speaking, And she swallowed cold poison and jumped in the sea. And I say to myself when there's time for a word, As I gracefully grow more debauched and depraved, 'Ah, love may be strong, but a habit is stronger And I knew when I loved by the way I behaved. . Peter S. Beagle
50
I was facing him before the last word was out, but I should have been dead by then. In a way I did die, right there, all that time ago, and this is a ghost who has been telling you stories and drinking your wine. You don't understand. Never mind. Peter S. Beagle
51
Because that world's gone. The world where people walked around whistling that music. All the madrigal singers in the world can't make that other one real again. It's like dinosaurs. We can put them back together perfectly, bone for bone, but we don't know what they smelled like, what kind of sounds they made, or how big they really looked standing in the grass under all those fossil fern trees. Even the sunlight must have been different, and the wind. What can bones tell you about a kind of wind that doesn't blow anymore?. Peter S. Beagle
52
He knew very well that the great majority of human conversation is meaningless. A man can get through most of his days on stock answers to stock questions, he thought. Once he catches onto the game, he can manage with an assortment of grunts. This would not be so if people listened to each other, but they don't. They know that no one is going to say anything moving and important to them at that very moment. Anything important will be announced in the newspapers and reprinted for those who missed it. No one really wants to know how his neighbor is feeling, but he asks him anyway, because it is polite, and because he knows that his neighbor certainly will not tell him how he feels. What this woman and I say to each other is not important. It is the simple making of sounds that pleases us. Peter S. Beagle
53
You're in the story with the rest of us now, and you must go with it, whether you will or no. Peter S. Beagle
54
Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name. Peter S. Beagle
55
The air was motionless, carved, a block of warm copper fitting neatly around the earth, molded while soft to fit every house and every human being on the earth, and now hardened forever so that no man could move and no air ever came through. The earth rumbled down its alley like a golden bowling ball, shining. Peter S. Beagle
56
The stars were going out now, one by one, dropping like pennies behind the television aerials and the skylights and the washing strung between the chimneys. The sky was still dark - a sated, navy-blue woman - but the grass was jittery with the expectation of dawn. Peter S. Beagle
57
Forget it, Jonathan, and go back to sleep. And before you go to sleep, pray that no well-meaning god ever makes you immortal. Peter S. Beagle
58
You don't have to believe in Hell. All you need is to hear someone who really does, who believes in it this minute, today, the way people believe in 1685 – all you have to do is see his face, his voice when he says the word... and than you know that anyone who can imagine Hell has the power to make it real for other people. Peter S. Beagle
59
But what's left on earth that I haven't tried?" Prince Lír demanded. "I have swum four rivers, each in full flood and none less than a mile wide. I have climbed seven mountains never before climbed, slept three nights in the Marsh of the Hanged Men, and walked alive out of that forest where the flowers burn your eyes and the nightingales sing poison. I have ended my betrothal to the princess I had agreed to marry – and if you don't think that was a heroic deed, you don't know her mother. I have vanquished exactly fifteen black knights waiting by fifteen fords in their black pavilions, challenging all who come to cross. And I've long since lost count of the witches in the thorny woods, the giants, the demons disguised as damsels; the glass hills, fatal riddles, and terrible tasks; the magic apples, rings, lamps, potions, swords, cloaks, boots, neckties, and nightcaps. Not to mention the winged horses, the basilisks and sea serpents, and all the rest of the livestock." He raised his head, and the dark blue eyes were confused and sad." And all for nothing, " he said. "I cannot touch her, whatever I do. For her sake, I have become a hero – I, sleepy Lír, my father's sport and shame – but I might as well have remained the dull fool I was. My great deeds mean nothing to her. . Peter S. Beagle
60
From that first moment of doubt, there was no peace for her; from the time she first imagined leaving her forest, she could not stand in one place without wanting to be somewhere else. She trotted up and down beside her pool, restless and unhappy. Unicorns are not meant to make choices. She said no, and yes, and no again, day and night, and for the first time she began to feel the minutes crawling over her like worms. . Peter S. Beagle
61
..no meal is good enough to justify all the money and effort wasted in preparing it. It is an illusion and an expense. Live as I do, undeceived. Peter S. Beagle
62
So you're an angel, fine, that's terrific. Now give me back my shadows. (Uncle Chaim and Aunt Rifke and the Angel) Peter S. Beagle
63
I don't think I could ever see her closely, " the sentinel replied, "however close she came." His own voice was hushed and regretful, echoing with lost chances. "She has a newness, " he said. "Everything is for the first time. See how she moves, how she walks, how she turns her head -- all for the first time, the first time anyone has ever done these things. See how she draws her breath and lets it go again, as though no one else in the world knew that air was good. It is all for her. If I learned that she had been born this very morning, I would only be surprised that she was so old." The second sentinel stared down from his tower at the three wanderers. The tall man saw him first, and next the dour woman. Their eyes reflected nothing but his armor, grim and cankered and empty. But then the girl in the ruined black cloak raised her head, and he stepped back from the parapet, putting out one tin glove against her glance. In a moment she passed into the shadow of the castle with her companions, and he lowered his hand. "She may be mad, " he said calmly. "No grown girl looks like that unless she is mad. That would be annoying, but far preferable to the remaining possibility." "Which is?" the younger man prompted after a silence." Which is that she was indeed born this morning. I would rather that she were mad. Peter S. Beagle
64
I am what I am. I would tell you what you want to know if I could, for you have been kind to me. But I am a cat, and no cat anywhere ever gave anyone a straight answer. Peter S. Beagle
65
The Lady Amalthea beckoned, and the cat wriggled all over, like a dog, but he would not come near.. She was offering her open palm to the crook-eared cat, but he stayed where he was, shivering with the desire to go to her"..[later, Molly asked the cat] "Why were you afraid to let her touch you? I saw you. You were afraid of her."" If she had touched me, " he said very softly, "I would have been hers and not my own, not ever again. I wanted her to touch me but I could not let her. No cat will.. The price is more than a cat can pay. Peter S. Beagle
66
I had a good time that night, too, " Michael said, "but I kept thinking, This is forever. This is forever. You will have this good time again and again, a million times over, until it will be like a play in which you and Laura and a few fugitive lives sit around an imaginary fire and talk and sing songs and love each other and sometimes throw imaginary brands at the eyes blinking beyond the circle of imaginary firelight. And then I thought - and this is where I sounded just like a real philosopher - And even when you admit that you know every line in the play and every song that will be sung, even when you know that this evening spent with friends is pleasant and joyful because you remember it as pleasant and joyful and wouldn't change it for the world, even when you know that anything you feel for these good friends has no more reality than a dream faithfully remembered every night for a thousand years - even then it goes on. Even then it has just begun. Peter S. Beagle
67
She came very close, and looking into my eyes, she said, “My Jenny, ” and then she bent her head and kissed me–here, on the left-hand corner of my mouth. And nobody knows better than I that I couldn’t have felt anything, because Tamsin was a ghost–but nobody but me knows what I felt. And I’ll always know. Peter S. Beagle
68
Sing to me, " she said. "That would be valiant, to raise your voice in this dark, lonely place, and it will be useful as well. Sing to me, sing loudly-drown out my dreams, keep me from remembering whatever wants me to remember it. Sing to me, my lord prince, if it please you. It may not seem a hero's task, but I would be glad of it. Peter S. Beagle
69
So let's say you marry this girl. All right, you can still be a great man. Look at all the great men who had wives. Go ahead, be a great man, don't let me stop you. Only first you should stop by the grocer and pick up something for the dog. Also for the baby, soft, because he's getting his teeth. To do this, you have to have a job five days a week, you can be a great man on week ends. Peter S. Beagle
70
If there is one thing in this world that I was raised and trained to know, it is that there is only so much you may ask of the gods. Victory in battle is their lightest gift; a quiet heart is your own concern. Peter S. Beagle
71
Farrell had seen pure white drunkenness before, but not often enough to recognize it at sight. He knew the thing itself, however--the freight train rattling and lurching comically from hilarity to slobbering sorrow, picking up speed as it passed through wild, aimless anger straight on into wild sickness; and then, running smoothly and almost silently now, into a dark place of shaking and sweating and crying, and out again with no warning to where a dazzling snowy light made everything very still. Peter S. Beagle
72
..and it's not my place to chase around after you, fixing stuff. What I know's what I know, and it don't include putting the world back the way it out to be. It's too late for that. Way too late for heroes, champions, miracles. Don't matter what our heritage was maybe meant for - your side got hold of it first, and you won long ago. No undoing that, Esau, I ain't fool enough to think otherwise. I'm still sorry for you, but I know your side's won, this side of the grave. . Peter S. Beagle
73
You were the one who taught me, " he said. "I never looked at you without seeing the sweetness of the way the world goes together, or without sorrow for its spoiling. I became a hero to serve you, and all that is like you. Peter S. Beagle
74
Men have to have heroes, but no man can ever be as big as the need, and so a legend grows around a grain of truth, like a pearl. Peter S. Beagle
75
He is a true hero, " she said, "a dragonslayer, a giantkiller, a rescuer of maidens, a solver of impossible riddles. He may be the greatest hero of all, because he's a good man as well. They aren't always. Peter S. Beagle
76
I think love is stronger than habits or circumstances. I think it is possible to keep yourself for someone for a long time and still remember why you were waiting when she comes at last. Peter S. Beagle
77
The Cat: When the wine drinks itself, when the skull speaks, when the clock strikes the right time, only then will you find the tunnel that leads to the Red Bull. There be a trick to it, of course. Peter S. Beagle
78
I like being brave well enough, but I will be a lazy coward again if you think that would be better. Peter S. Beagle
79
I am a good runner. There are many faster, but not so many for whom it has been as necessary to learn to become nothing but flight. Peter S. Beagle
80
Love was generous precisely because it could never be immortal. Peter S. Beagle
81
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
82
I wish something would happen to me, something that would show me exactly how cruel and jealous and vengeful I can be. Then I could go back to gentleness because I chose it over brutality for its own sake, not because I didn't have the courage to be cruel. I might even like cruelty. I doubt very much that I would, but I ought to find out. Peter S. Beagle
83
He really would have done all that for her, you see, and done it believing he'd burn in hell forever for doing it. He hadn't done it, and wouldn't had made her his anyway, but you see why he'd have figured it did. Or maybe I saw it anyway, at the time. He was a maniac and a monster, but people don't love like that anymore. Or maybe it's only the maniacs and monsters who do. I don't know. Peter S. Beagle
84
I would have chosen any other than this for my prison. A rhinoceros is as ugly as a human being, and it too is going to die, but at least it never thinks that it is beautiful. Peter S. Beagle