was watsoned. now i'm lupinremus!
"Somebody said to me, ‘You’ll never be in a film as successful as Harry Potter.’
“I said ‘You’re right, but neither will anyone else.’”

“I DON’T CARE!” Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. “I’VE HAD ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE ANYMORE!”

"You do care," said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. "You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.” 


I would sit in a parking lot with you at 2am

"You know you don’t have to act with me, Steve. You don’t have to say anything, and you don’t have to do anything. Not a thing. Oh, maybe just whistle."

September 16, 1924 - August 12, 2014

Don’t you love me??
- A Lady killer’s mix. A sociopath.

I still catch myself feeling sad about things that don’t matter anymore.

— Kurt Vonnegut (via battybatty) —



tumblr friendships are hard to maintain like im sorry i know i havent talked to you in 5 months but you’re still super rad and i still consider us friends im just dumb




team i can’t do math for shit but i can write a 3 page english paper in less than an hour 

1. Take his hands, take them by the teeth, because you are something wild, something terrible, and he never knew how to love you in a way that inflamed you, in a way that gnawed at your bones.

2. Are you still trying to swallow the stars? Are you still trying to let the light burn through?

3. I wanted to leave something besides a blood trail, besides prayers growing stale on my tongue. I could give you my body, my flesh, offer it up like a sacrifice, like a banquet. Would it be enough? Could you carve a story from my veins?

4. When your mother tells you about your birth, she says it like myth, like pain and blessings and something pink and precious. She never tells you that you were born angry, with too many teeth.

5. It all adds up to this: the hollow chest, the bruised neck, the shaking hands. Your body, the triumvirate of unholy things.

— Emily Palermo, ix.