“There it is, the unicorn thought, feeling the first spidery touch of sorrow on the inside of her skin. That is how it will be to travel with a mortal, all the time. ‘No,’ she replied. ‘I cannot turn you into something you are not, no more than the witch could. I cannot turn you into a true magician.’

“‘I didn’t think so,’ Schmendrick said. ‘It’s all right. Don’t worry about it.’

“‘I’m not worrying about it,’ the unicorn said.”

—The Last Unicorn