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Tove Jansson
“Later in the evening Misabel went for a solitary stroll by the sea. She saw the moon rise and start his lonesome journey through the night.

"He's exactly like me," Misabel thought sadly. "So plump and lonely."

At this thought she felt so forsaken and mild that she had to cry a little.

"What are you crying for?" asked Whomper nearby.

"I don't know, but it feels nice," replied Misabel.

"But people cry because they feel sorry, don't they?" objected Whomper.

"Well, yes--the moon," Misabel replied vaguely and blew her nose. "The moon and the night and all the sadness there is..."

"Oh, yes," said Whomper.”
Tove Jansson, Moominsummer Madness

Peter S. Beagle
“Where have you been?" she cried. "Damn you, where have you been?" She took a few steps toward Schmendrick, but she was looking beyond him, at the unicorn.

When she tried to get by, the magician stood in her way. "You don't talk like that," he told her, still uncertain that Molly had recognized the unicorn. "Don't you know how to behave, woman? You don't curtsy, either."

But Molly pushed him aside and went up to the unicorn, scolding her as though she were a strayed milk cow. "Where have you been?" Before the whiteness and the shining horn, Molly shrank to a shrilling beetle, but this time it was the unicorn's old dark eyes that looked down.

"I am here now," she said at last.

Molly laughed with her lips flat. "And what good is it to me that you're here now? Where where you twenty years ago, ten years ago? How dare you, how dare you come to me now, when I am this?" With a flap of her hand she summed herself up: barren face, desert eyes, and yellowing heart. "I wish you had never come. Why did you come now?" The tears began to slide down the sides of her nose.

The unicorn made no reply, and Schmendrick said, "She is the last. She is the last unicorn in the world."

"She would be." Molly sniffed. "It would be the last unicorn in the world to come to Molly Grue." She reached up then to lay her hand on the unicorn's cheek; but both of them flinched a little, and the touch came to rest on on the swift, shivering place under the jaw. Molly said, "It's all right. I forgive you.”
Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn

Patricia A. McKillip
“Explain to me again," he begged, "why we are here."

She had told him once before; it had been like listening to a vivid, improbable dream.”
Patricia A. McKillip, Ombria in Shadow

Isabel Miller
“Who is this cautious unhoping young woman? Where is the hero who bore such batterings for love and stood up before witnesses to ask me to be a hero too? And I am a hero now. Can't you see? We can be an army of two. We can be Plato's perfect army: lovers, who will never behave dishonorably in each other's sight, and invincible. Let the world either kill us or grow accustomed to us; here we stand.”
Isabel Miller, Patience & Sarah

James M. Cain
“Love, when you get fear in it, it's not love any more. It's hate.”
James M. Cain, The Postman Always Rings Twice

160153 SF/F Read Alongs — 165 members — last activity Nov 26, 2021 02:32AM
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