(By: B-Cliff)
Vielleicht gefällt dir das
The presence of hundreds of books had finally convinced Hermione that what they were doing was right.
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (J. K. Rowling)
To me, Harry Potter is a warm blanket wrapped around you on an unfathomably cold winters day.
Harry Potter is a hot cup of tea in the middle of exam season anxiety.
Harry Potter is all the life lessons my parents never taught me.
Harry Potter is magic that you just can’t seem to spin off your fingertips.
Harry Potter is the hug of your best friend on a day you didn’t think you’d get through.
Harry Potter is the scratching of a pencil on paper and the spark of a brilliant idea.
Harry Potter is a childhood filled with wonder, an adolescence filled with dreams, and an adulthood filled with hope.
Harry Potter is every tangible and intangible thing you could ever hope to be.
Harry Potter is always, in every crooked definition of the world.
Harry Potter is the sound of a world settling and the gentle hum of being comforted.
Harry Potter is a generation, a generation of kids getting high on the distraction of fantasy.
I guess you could make it simpler.
Harry Potter is 7 books, 8 movies, 197 chapters, one epilogue, over a million words and more memories made than you could count.
But, going back, you really can’t make it simpler.
Because, at least, to me, Harry Potter is home.
home, where we grew up (via ascendiomalfoy)
Harry Potter isn’t real? Oh no! Wait, wait, what do you mean by real? Is this video blog real? Am I real if you can see me and hear me, but only through the internet? Are you real if I can read your comment but I don’t know who you are or what your name is or where you’re from or what you look like or how old you are? I know all of those things about Harry Potter. Maybe Harry Potter’s real and you’re not.
John Green
Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it.
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (via the-book-diaries)
October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid’s pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds.
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (J.K. Rowling)
Every reader, as he reads, is actually the reader of himself. The writer’s work is only a kind of optical instrument he provides the reader so he can discern what he might never have seen in himself without this book. The reader’s recognition in himself of what the book says is the proof of the book’s truth.
Marcel Proust, Time Regained (via mesogeios)
enchantedbook