You know that moment when you’re reading a book and you just have to stop and bite your lip and squeal or sigh or close your eyes and wrinkle your nose and forehead and press the book against your heart and just like sit there and try to soak up the gorgeous literature via osmosis?
That’s my favorite part of reading.
The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing.Severus Snape in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix pg. 530 (via luna-l0vegoood)
We’ve officially reached that annoying time of year where it’s sweater weather in the morning, but by midday you die from a heatstroke.