The Stories We Love Best

Your Hair Is Much Too Long, Ronald, For A Moment I Thought You Were Ginevra.

Slowly, Very Slowly, He Sat Up, And As He Did So He Felt More Alive, And More Aware Of His Own Living Body Than Ever Before. Why Had He Never Appreciated What A Miracle He Was, Brain And Nerve And Bounding Heart? It Would All Be Gone...or At Least, He Would Be Gone From It. His Breath Came Slow And Deep, And His Mouth And Throat Were Completely Dry, But So Were His Eyes.

In A Novel You Have To Resist The Urge To Tell Everything.

Rita Looked As Though She Would Have Liked Nothing Better Than To Seize The Paper Umbrella Sticking Out Of Hermione's Drink And Thrust It Up Her Nose.

We Can't Choose Our Fate, But We Can Choose Others. Be Careful In Knowing That.