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Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
“I wonder, now- yes, why not- unusual combination- holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."
Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..."
He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..."
"Sorry," said Harry, "but
what's
curious?"
Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather- just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother- why, its brother gave you that scar."
Harry swallowed.
"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember.... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter.... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things- terrible, yes, but great.”
Harry Potter
Voldemort
Destined
Wand
Happy City: Transforming Our Lives Through Urban Design
“There is a message for all city makers here. It is that with the right triangulation, even the ugliest of places can be infused with the warmth that turns strangers into familiars by giving us enough reason to slow down.”
Happiness
Strangers
Urban Design
Public Space
Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors
“Well, you did walk away from that beautiful creature in the kitchen without so much as a glance, so I don't know about the genius part," the other woman said, and DJ felt his face warm. "You want to go back in there? I'll introduce you. You can celebrate for real."
Both women broke into giggles. DJ almost smiled; maybe he'd overreacted in there a bit.
"No thank you," the good doctor said in that voice of hers. "But thanks for thinking I'm desperate enough to be set up with the hired help."
DJ stepped away from the door, the warmth on his face turning into an angry burn.
The hired help?
He had worked at a Michelin-starred restaurant, for crying out loud. For years. People across Paris knew his name.
Who the bloody hell did this woman think she was? Sometimes he really, truly hated rich people.”
Snob
Hired
Trisha And Dj
Trisha Raje
Dead Toad Scrolls
“I hope to address and satisfactorily answer a number of issues throughout this scroll, namely, how I should elect to live out the remainder of my life. What qualities should I incorporate into my personhood and what noxious characteristics must I jettison from an evolving personal character? Questions that establish the spine of this scroll include does a person need the bookends of both faith and hope to bracket personal survival? Should I take a vow of poverty, chastity, and public service, and seek to live an honorable life based upon the principles of loyalty and courage? Must a person clasp vivid dreams close to their heart? Must a person stalk their personal calling with all their ferocity and resolve to hang onto the slender stalk of wispy wishes with all their might? Alternatively, should a person resolve to accept a life free from all forms of wanting? Can I discover a way to live in a supple way? Should I invest diminishing personal resources into self-discovery? Should I intensely search out the tenderest spot in my being? Do I dare plunge into the affectionate pulse that fills my innermost cavities with glowing warmth towards humanity? Given that death is inevitable, should I disdain failure, because how can anyone fail at living while pursuing the beam cast by the interior flash of their incandescent light? While many of these questions might prove elusive or unanswerable, the act of questioning has independent value.”
Memoir
Philosophy Of Life
Writers On Writing
Writing Process
Writing Life
Writers On Thinking
Self Examination
Memoir Writing
Writing Memoir
Writers On Writing Books
“Light in love is joy.
Light in faith is hope.
Light in compassion is mercy.
Light in gratitude is contentment.
Light in understanding is awareness.
Light in intellect is discernment.
Light in certainty is conviction.
Light in patience is expectation.
Light in truth is discovery.
Light in innocence is virtue.
Light in experience is illumination.
Light in consciousness is realization.
Light in your world is warmth.
Light in your sky is energy.
Light in your universe is wisdom.
Light in your yourself is virtue.
Light in your mind is truth.
Light in your heart is knowledge.
Light in your soul is wisdom.
Light in your life is God.”
Africa Quotes
Wisdom Quotations
African Quotes
African Philosophy Quotes
Light Quotations
Sage Quotes
Matshona Dhliwayo Quotes
Guru Quotations
African Philosopher Quotes
Solomonology Quotes
Supper Club
“The more I experimented, the more I wanted to discover flavor, texture, scent. Gently toasting spices. Mixing herbs.
My immediate instincts were toward anything like comfort food, the hallmarks of which were a moderate warmth and a sloppy, squelching quality: soups, stews, casseroles, tagines, goulashes. I glazed cauliflower with honey and mustard, roasted it alongside garlic and onions to a sweet gold crisp, then whizzed it up in a blender. I graduated to more complicated soups: Cuban black bean required slow cooking with a full leg of ham, the meat falling almost erotically away from the bone, swirled up in a thick, savory goo. Italian wedding soup was a favorite, because it looked so fundamentally wrong- the egg stringy and half cooked, swimming alongside thoughtlessly tossed-in stale bread and not-quite-melted strips of Parmesan. But it was delicious, the peculiar consistency and salty heartiness of it. Casseroles were an exercise in patience. I'd season with sprigs of herbs and leave them ticking over, checking up every half hour or so, thrilled by the steamy waves of roasting tomatoes and stewed celery when I opened up the oven. Seafood excited me, but I felt I had too much to learn. The proximity of Polish stores resulted in a weeklong obsession with bigos- a hunter's stew made with cabbage and meat and garnished with anything from caraway seeds to juniper berries.”
Cooking
Experimenting
Stew
Comfort Food
Soups
“How much is your bible? Revelations normally are interchangeable, apart from the names, the narrative eventually remains the same, it all ENDS. In-between the games, customs tend to go back to its origin. Its centre, based on the callings of the internal. Whenever nature, being the sun, progresses into the maternal, black people crave the warmth embodied within the circle. As unity is resurrected, what occurs is a rejection on the texts written on so-called fate, or destiny, confined to upside down signs taken from the black and forsaken. When did money predict the ability of a church to carry on its purpose? Where then is its highest point? Billionaire priests?”
Spirituality
Religion And Philoshophy
How Much Is Your Bible
Love in the Afternoon
“It had been a long time since a woman had held him. It felt so good that he couldn't make himself release her just yet. Her body cradled his with supple feminine strength. Those slim, gentle fingers continued to stroke the back of his neck. He had never seen such blue eyes, clear and dark like Bristol blue glass.
Christopher tried to remember the reasons why he shouldn't want her. He even tried to summon thoughts of Prudence, but it was impossible. He closed his eyes and felt her breath striking his chin. He felt her everywhere, with his entire body, her scent in his nose and throat, her warmth sinking into him.”
Sensations
Beatrix And Christopher
Christopher Phelan
Worth Any Price
“As Sophia held her gaze, it was clear that the magnetism of the Sydney family was not limited to the males. She radiated a mixture of warmth and self-confidence that was impossible to resist.”
Magnetism
Sophia Sydney
Worth Any Price
“She fell asleep rapidly, swimming through a haze of pleasant images... walking through the forest in Hampshire... dangling her feet in a cool pond on a hot day... pausing in the kissing gate, while the smell of sun-warmed meadowsweet rose thickly to her nostrils. She closed her eyes and tilted her chin upward, relishing the sultry rays, while a butterfly's wings brushed lightly against her cheek. Entranced by the delicate tickle, she held very still. The silken strokes moved over the tip of her nose, the sensitive periphery of her upper lip, the tender corners of her mouth.
Searching blindly, she lifted her face to the brushes of warmth and was rewarded by a gentle pressure that opened her lips and drew a moan from the upper part of her lungs. Lord Sydney was standing with her in the kissing gate, his arms trapping her against the painted ribs of latticework. His mouth searched hers so gently, his body firm against hers, and she writhed in a mute plea for him to hold her more tightly. Seeming to know exactly what she wanted, he pushed his knee into her skirts, right against the place that felt swollen and yearning. Gasping, she curled her fingers in his glossy hair, and he whispered for her to relax, that he would take care of her, satisfy her-
"Oh." Blinking hard, she stirred from the sensuous dream as she realized that she was not alone. The bed curtains had been drawn aside, and Nick Gentry's long body was entangled with hers. One large hand was cupped beneath her hips, while his leg wedged more intimately between hers. His breath surged against her ear, filling the shell with moist heat, and then his lips wandered back to hers in a searing path. He absorbed her protest as he kissed her, his tongue searching her mouth, his body levering over hers.”
Making Love
Dreaming
Nick Gentry
Charlotte And Nick
Charlotte Howard
The Drowned
“When the denizens of the land arrive in the depths of the blue waters, aquatic love takes them into its shelter, they forget the sound of the anklets of the daughters of the land, they sleep with the mermaids, and afterwards, they sigh with regret for the warmth they have lost, they long for weeping, and awaiting a reed flute player, they stare at the far-away surface of the water.”
Love
Mythology
Love Quotes
Love Story
Mermaid
Mythical Creatures
Mermaid Romance
Mermaid Magic
Lady Sophia's Lover
“As Ross entered the kitchen, he saw Ernest sitting at the scrubbed wooden table. The boy wolfed down a plate of breakfast as if it were the first decent meal he'd had in months. Sophia stood at the range with the scrawny cook-maid, apparently showing her how to prepare the morning's fare. "Turn them like this," Sophia was saying, expertly flipping a row of little cakes on a griddle pan. The kitchen atmosphere was especially fragrant today, spiced with frying bacon, coffee, and sizzling batter.
Sophia looked fresh and wholesome, the trim curves of her figure outlined by a white apron that covered her charcoal-gray dress. Her gleaming hair was pinned in a coil at the top of her head and tied with a blue ribbon. As she saw him standing in the doorway, a smile lit her sapphire eyes, and she was so dazzlingly pretty that Ross felt a painful jab low in his stomach.
"Good morning, Sir Ross," she said. "Will you have some breakfast?"
"No, thank you," he replied automatically. "Only a jug of coffee. I never..." He paused as the cook set a platter on the table. It was piled with steaming batter cakes sitting in a pool of blackberry sauce. He had a special fondness for blackberries.
"Just one or two?" Sophia coaxed.
Abruptly it became less important that he adhere to his usual habits. Perhaps he could make time for a little breakfast, Ross reasoned. A five-minute delay would make no difference in his schedule.
He found himself seated at the table facing a plate heaped with cakes, crisp bacon, and coddled eggs. Sophia filled a mug with steaming black coffee, and smiled at him once more before resuming her place at the range with Eliza. Ross picked up his fork and stared at it as if he didn't quite know what to do with it.
"They're good, sir," Ernest ventured, stuffing his mouth so greedily that it seemed likely he would choke.
Ross took a bite of the fruit-soaked cake and washed it down with a swallow of hot coffee. As he continued to eat, he felt an unfamiliar sense of well-being. Good God, it had been a long time since he'd had anything other than Eliza's wretched concoctions.
For the next few minutes Ross ate until the platter of cakes was demolished. Sophia came now and then to refill his cup or offer more bacon. The cozy warmth of the kitchen and the sight of Sophia as she moved about the room caused a tide of unwilling pleasure inside him.”
Breakfast
Sophia And Ross
Blackberries
Hotcakes
Sophia Sydney
Lady Sophia's Lover
“Releasing an explosive breath, Ross went to the chair where Sophia had sat, his fingers coasting over its back and arms. Driven by primal urges, he hunted for any trace of warmth her hands might have left on the wood. He breathed deeply, seeking to absorb a lingering hint of her fragrance.
Yes, he thought with purely masculine agitation, he had been celibate for too long.”
Urges
Ross Cannon
Sophia Sydney
Lady Sophia's Lover
“We have all made mistakes."
"Not you, surely."
That elicited a wry smile from him. "Especially me."
Her blue eyes were alert. "What kind of mistakes?"
The question amused him. He liked her for her fearlessness, as well as the layer of vulnerability beneath. "None that you need to know about, Miss Sydney."
She smiled slowly. "Then I remain skeptical as to your having made any."
It was the kind of smile a woman might wear in the sultry aftermath of lovemaking. Very few women possessed such effortless sensuality, a natural warmth that made a man feel like a prize stallion on a stud farm.”
Sexual Attraction
Sophia And Ross
Sophia Sydney
Hungry Hearts: 13 Tales of Food & Love
“Anna opened the box.
Wow
. Inside were four beautiful, freshly baked pastries. Anna didn't know what kind they were, but they looked and smelled utterly delicious. Two were in shades of green, the other two in shades of purple, and the warmth of them bled through the box and into her hands and chased some of the cold away.
"They're pan dulce," said the girl. "I knew someone needed them, so I baked them. I knew as soon as I saw you that it was you.”
Gift
Pastries
To Wed a Wicked Earl
“Oh, thank you! Thank you," she chirped, surprising him by bounding across the room and clasping him tight for a quick hug.
His arms hung heavy and loose at his sides during her gentle siege.
Rothbury had enchanted exotic opera singers into returning to his bed time and again. He had warmed coldhearted courtesans into confessing their undying love and he had seduced a number of beautiful, feisty women who were just as fickle in picking their lovers as he was. But Charlotte's hug unsettled him, knocked him off balance, one might say.
He didn't want her to let go. But he wouldn't dare bring up his arms to hold her either. Without a doubt he knew if he indulged himself, all he felt, all he thought, would be exposed in the warmth of his embrace. And then there would be no turning back. He would be bared, revealed, humiliated.”
Rake
Hug
Physical Attraction
Adam Faramond
Charlotte And Adam
Charlotte Greene
To Wed a Wicked Earl
“Am I dead?"
A beat of silence, then came the soft hush of rustling fabric. It sounded as if she surrounded him. Her scent certainly did, delicate citrus and warmth.
Mmm. He smiled. "You smell like sunshine."
What a ridiculous thing to say. Maybe he
was
dead... and in heaven.”
Manna From Heaven
Charlotte And Adam
Charlotte Greene
Until the Mountains Fall
“She gently placed her palm on my wounded shoulder and the warmth of her hand did nearly as much to soothe the ache as did the ointment. If only she would continue touching me, allow us to forge something new together from the broken pieces of our past. Her willing presence in my life would be far more healing than any balm”
Cities
Must Read
Book Love
Biblical Fiction
Connilyn Cossette
Until The Mountains Fall
Red Queen
“I expect him to take my arm, to envelop me in his warmth, but there’s nothing but cold dripping off him. He’s afraid, I realize.”
Cold
Warmth
Afraid
Maven
“Some people are the Sun. They radiate warmth and light just because they're filled with that fire. The Sun must feel sad, sometimes, when nothing can do the same for it. Because all around are cold stars, dark planets, nothing is as warm.”
Love
Love Quotes And Sayings
The Sun
Highly Sensitive People
Highly Sensitive Individual
“Some people are capable of giving so much more love, so much more warmth, so much more generosity and affection. It's hard to be those people. Nobody can meet you there, in that place, where you radiate with sunlight. Who can love the Sun, the way that it loves the Earth?”
Love
Love Quotes And Sayings
Highly Sensitive People
Highly Sensitive Individual
“After they departed the river, the beach, and the raised lip of land, it all readjusted under the towering awareness of the trees. The pebbles lost the stain of human warmth. The water shook off its taste of sweat and the flattened grasses slowly clicked back into their vertical semblance of the rest of the forest. The breeze cleared the air and the birds changed their tune of alarm and disgust into a softer conversation about being here, there, and now. The ants and the clustering insects stopped waiting for the bodies to be still and foraged elsewhere, and the omnipresent mosquitoes reassessed their menu. In one hour all traces of the intrusion were lost and decent time settled back, oblivious to the rubbed-out moment of blight.”
Forest
The Cloven
The Vorrh
Bobby's Girl
“The time has come for tears to start again,
Those faithful tears that always ease the pain.
Release the raging rivers of my soul!
Let me drown and then rise up again.
Let me drown until the river dries,
until the numbing coldness settles in.
See the world once more with empty eyes,
no spark of warmth can penetrate the skin.
Crash the thunder! Howl the wind!
Freeze my heart and beat the driving rain!
Let me know these dreams are empty lies.
Let me die and come to life again.
In the silent darkness of my mind,
let me wonder who you really are.
Let me feel that you were just a dream.
That fades on waking like the morning star”
Romance
Coming Of Age Love Story
“It is impossible to separate:
heat and light,
warmth and fire,
joy and laughter,
bliss and contentment,
pleasure and elation,
euphoria and excitement,
faith and certainty,
pride and destruction,
hope and anticipation,
desire and expection,
love and affection,
passion and devotion,
misery and hatred,
temper and violence,
rage and resentment,
lust and infatuation,
sentiment and opinion,
zeal and ambition,
confidence and conviction,
anger and bitterness,
loyalty and friendship,
joy and laughter,
peace and calmness,
patience and composure,
truth and virtue,
courage and fortitude,
mercy and charity,
service and honor,
need and desire,
life and activity,
being and reality,
and time and eternity.”
Wisdom Quotes
Philosophy Quotes
Wise Quotes
Wise Quotations
Philosopher Quotes
Wise Sayings Quotes
Guru Quotes
Matshona Dhliwayo Quotes
Philosopher Quotations
Philosophy Quotations
1Q84
“But it has finally hit me: she is neither a concept nor a symbol nor a metaphor. She actually exists: she has warm flesh and a spirit that moves. I never should have lost sight of that warmth and that movement. It took me twenty years to understand something so obvious. It may already be too late. But one way or another, I want to find her.”
Life
Love
1q84
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