I don’t go out with strangers,” I said. “Good thing I do. I’ll pick you up at five.
District 12: Where you can starve to death in safety.
I wrote the story myself. It’s about a girl who lost her reputation and never missed it.
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
A single dream is more powerful than a thousand realities.
She read books as one would breathe air, to fill up and live.
My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that, and I intend to end up there.
As it has been said: Love and a cough cannot be concealed. Even a small cough. Even a small love.
Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.
And so it goes…
No mourners. No funerals. Among them, it passed for ‘good luck.
Only you can control your future.
You will lose what you value most, so treasure it while you can.
Ginny!” said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. “Haven’t I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain?
Begin at the beginning,” the King said, very gravely, “and go on till you come to the end: then stop.
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