Unicorn. Old French, Unicorne. Latin, Unicornis. Literally,

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.

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.

Then What Is Magic For?" Prince Lír Demanded Wildly. "what Use Is Wizardry If It Cannot Save A Unicorn?" He Gripped The Magician's Shoulder Hard, To Keep From Falling. Schmedrick Did Not Turn His Head. With A Touch Of Sad Mockery In His Voice, He Said, "that's What Heroes Are For.

It's Really Not So Good To Have Time. Rush, Scramble, Desperation, This Missed, That Left Behind, Those Others Too Big To Fit Into Such A Small Space--that's The Way Life Was Meant To Be. You're Supposed To Be Too Late For Some Things. Don't Worry About It.

The Magician Stood Erect, Menacing The Attackers With Demons, Metamorphoses, Paralyzing Ailments, And Secret Judo Holds. Molly Picked Up A Rock.