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Like a lion, without fear of the howling pack,
Like a gust of wind, never trapped in a snare,
Like a lotus blossom, never sprinkled by water,
Like me, like a unicorn, in solitude roam.
~Hymn of Buddha~
With Unicorns we feel the nostalgia of the infinite, the sorcery of dolls,
the salt of sex, the vertigo of them that skirt the edge of perilous ravines,
or staddle the rim of finer issues. He dwells in equivocal twilight; and he
can stare the sun out of countenance.
~James Huneker~
