It Was On The Corner Of The

Every Second He Breathed, The Smell Of The Grass, The Cool Air On His Face, Was So Precious: To Think That People Had Years And Years, Time To Waste, So Much Time It Dragged, And He Was Clinging To Each Second.

So,” Sneered Fudge, Recovering Himself, “you Intend To Take On Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, And Myself Single-handed, Do You, Dumbledore?” “merlin’s Beard, No,” Said Dumbledore, Smiling. “not Unless You Are Foolish Enough To Force Me To.” “he Will Not Be Single-handed!” Said Professor Mcgonagall Loudly, Plunging Her Hand Inside Her Robes. “oh Yes He Will, Minerva!” Said Dumbledore Sharply. “hogwarts Needs You!

Depression Isn't Just Being A Bit Sad. It's Feeling Nothing. It's Not Wanting To Be Alive Anymore.

Your Great-aunt Muriel Doesn't Agree, I Just Met Her Upstairs While She Was Giving Fleur The Tiara. "she Said 'oh Dear, Is This The Muggle Born?' And Then, 'bad Posture, Skinny Ankles.'" Don't Take It Personally, She's Rude To Everyone," Said Ron. "talking About Muriel?" Inquired George, Reemerging From The Marquee With Fred. "yeah, She's Just Told Me My Ears Are Lopsided. Old Bat.

There Are Plenty Of Eyewitness Accounts, Just Because You're So Narrow-minded You Need To Have Everything Shoved Under Your Nose Before You-