"The unicorn was weary of human beings. Watching her companions as they slept, seeing the shadows of their dreams scurry over their faces, she would feel herself bending under the heaviness of knowing their names. Then she would run until morning to ease the ache; swifter than rain, swift as loss, racing to catch up with the time when she had known nothing at all but the sweetness of being herself..."
I have decided that The Last Unicorn is one of my favorite books in the world, right up there with A Wrinkle in Time and The Chronicles of Narnia.
Just sayin'.
"That's different. Haggard and Lir and Drinn and you and I -- we are in a fairy tale, and must go where it goes. But she is real. She is real."
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