Your Name Is A Golden Bell Hung

The Most Professional Curse Ever Snarled Or Croaked Or Thundered Can Have No Effect On A Pure Heart.

Unicorns Are Not To Be Forgiven." The Magician Felt Himself Growing Giddy With Jealousy, Not Only Of The Touch But Of Something Like A Secret That Was Moving Between Molly And The Unicorn. "unicorns Are For Beginnings," He Said, "for Innocence And Purity, For Newness. Unicorns Are For Young Girls." Molly Was Stroking The Unicorn's Throat As Timidly As Though She Were Blind. She Dried Her Grimy Tears On The White Mane. "you Don't Know Much About Unicorns," She Said.

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.

When I Was Very Young Every Grownup Was A Hero. It's Been All Downhill Since Then, And I Have Only Two Left.

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