more cute photos here
Ron: It doesn’t just turn off lights. I don’t know how it works, but Christmas morning, I was sleeping in this little pub, keeping away from some Snatchers. And I heard it.
Harry: It?
Ron: A voice. Your voice, Hermione. It cut me out of it.
Hermione: And what exactly did I say, may I ask?
Ron: My name. Just my name. Like a whisper. So I took it, clicked it, and this tiny ball of light appeared. And I knew, sure enough, it floated toward me, the ball of light. And right into my chest. Straight through me. Right here.
I visit this book shop many a lunch break.
(Reblogged from kari-shma)
We lay there and looked up at the night sky and she told me about stars called blue squares and red swirls and I told her I’d never heard of them. Of course not, she said, the really important stuff they never tell you. You have to imagine it on your own.
~ Brian Andreas
(Reblogged from booklover)
everyone forgets that Icarus also flew: Song You’re wondering if I’m lonely: OK then, yes, I’m lonely as a...
Song
You’re wondering if I’m lonely:
OK then, yes, I’m lonely
as a plane rides lonely and level
on its radio beam, aiming
across the Rockies
for the blue-strung aisles
of an airfield on the ocean.You want to ask, am I lonely?
Well, of course, lonely
as a woman driving across country
day after day, leaving behind
“
(Reblogged from thesadnessofpencils)
For those of us who live at the shoreline
standing upon the constant edges of decision
crucial and alone
for those of us who cannot indulge
the passing dreams of choice
who love in doorways coming and going
in the hours between dawns
looking inward and outward
at once before and after
seeking a now that can breed
futures
like bread in our children’s mouths
so their dreams will not reflect
the death of ours:
For those of us
who were imprinted with fear
like a faint line in the center of our foreheads
learning to be afraid with our mother’s milk
for by this weapon
this illusion of some safety to be found
the heavy-footed hoped to silence us
For all of us
this instant and this triumph
We were never meant to survive.
And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain
when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning
when our stomachs are full we are afraid
of indigestion
when our stomachs are empty we are afraid
we may never eat again
when we are loved we are afraid
love will vanish
when we are alone we are afraid
love will never return
and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid
So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive
Audre Lorde, A Litany For Survival (via thesadnessofpencils)
I LOVE this poem. It speaks an honest truth.
