Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love.
HARRY POTTER ALPHABET → p
"I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death."
“I loved a maid as fair as summer with sunlight in her hair.I loved a maid as red as autumn with sunset in her hair.I loved a maid as white as winter with moonglow in her hair.”
I pledge my life and honor to the Night’s Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.
Rumours of death and dragon fire were what brought Godric to the valleys of Wales.
He hacked through the undergrowth, swiping furiously at the branches as though they were his enemies. He swung back his arm… and a small girl dropped from the tree in front of him.
“Oi – you!” he shouted, as the girl sprung to her feet with the ease of a cat. “You want to be careful, creeping around like that. You startled my horse!”
The girl looked unfazed. “You want to be careful with that.” She nodded at the sword now hanging limply from Godric’s right hand. “You’ll take someone’s head off. There are children round here, you know.”
At first glance, Godric had taken her for a child. She was a head shorter than him, pale and freckled with wild fair hair. Her mustard yellow robes were tattered and muddy. Up close, however, Godric saw that it was young woman’s body that shifted beneath her clothes. She was no girl.
“I’m Godric Gryffindor,” he said, outstretching a hand. “And I apologise for almost taking yours or anyone else’s head off. Though I suspect your drop from the tree was timed. You were watching me approach, no?”
She smiled brightly. “You’re correct.” She took his hand. Her own was small, but surprisingly strong. “My name’s Helga.” (x)
To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward you must go back, and to touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow.
Everything the light touches is our kingdom. - The Lion King (1994)
l·o·v·e [luhv] - noun
a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection,
as for a parent, child, or friend.
Haven’t you always wondered what was the reason for the connection between you, and the Dark Lord?