Like A Tongue On Frozen

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

"well, We Were Always Going To Fail That One," Said Ron Gloomily As They Ascended The Marble Staircase. He Had Just Made Harry Feel Rather Better By Telling Him How He Told The Examiner In Detail About The Ugly Man With A Wart On His Nose In The Crystal Ball, Only To Look Up And Realize He Had Been Describing The Examiner's Reflection.

Odd Words Floated Back To Them Over The Hundreds Of Heads. "nobility Of Spirit"..."intellectual Contribution"..."greatness Of Heart"...it Did Not Mean Very Much. It Had Little To Do With Dumbledore As Harry Had Known Him. He Suddenly Remembered Dumbledore's Idea Of A Few Words, "nitwit," "oddment," "blubber," And "tweak," And Again Had To Suppress A Grin.

And They'd [the Death Eaters] Love To Have Me," Said Harry Sarcastically. "we'd Be Best Pals If They Didn't Keep Trying To Do Me In.

Your Qualifications, Your Cv, Are Not Your Life, Though You Will Meet Many People Of My Age And Older Who Confuse The Two. Life Is Difficult, And Complicated, And Beyond Anyone's Control, And The Humility To Know That Will Enable You To Survive Its Vicissitudes.