“The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea.”
I forever liked this melancholic story. It is unusual that story about unicorn has so many philosophical thoughts about death. But it makes the story even more sophisticated and beautiful.