By all means continue destroying my possessions. I daresay I have too many.
J. K. RowlingRead
Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic far beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!
Interpretation
Music is portrayed as a powerful and magical force that transcends everyday life.
In this quote, the speaker expresses a deep appreciation for music, highlighting its extraordinary ability to evoke emotions and create a sense of magic that surpasses the mundane experiences of life. The reference to bedtime suggests that music can provide comfort and escape, similar to how a bedtime story does for a child, emphasizing its importance in our daily rituals and emotional well-being.
In practice
This quote can be shared at a music event to emphasize the transformative power of music.
By all means continue destroying my possessions. I daresay I have too many.
Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?” James lifted an invisible sword. “‘Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.” Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him. “Got a problem with that?” “No,” said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy —” “Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” interjected Sirius.
Depression isn't just being a bit sad. It's feeling nothing. It's not wanting to be alive anymore.
I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit.
Imagine losing fingernails, Harry! That really puts our sufferings into perspective, doesn't it?
The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed.
In my opinion, trying to guess what readers want is the wrong approach. You have to tell your story as best you can and as true to yourself as possible. You have to be honest and fair and vulnerable and foolish and brave, and not care what anyone thinks of it.
Fiction, I believed, was the transmutation of experiential dross into linguistic gold. Fiction meant taking up whatever the world had abandoned by the road and making something beautiful out of it.
Look, architecture has a lot of places to hide behind, a lot of excuses. "The client made me do this." "The city made me do this." "Oh, the budget." I don't believe that anymore.
In fiction, you know, there are no borders. You can go anywhere.
Art always serves beauty, and beauty is the joy of possessing form, and form is the key to organic life since no living thing can exist without it.
The inmost spirit of poetry, in other words, is at bottom, in every recorded case, the voice of pain – and the physical body, so to speak, of poetry, is the treatment by which the poet tries to reconcile that pain with the world.
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