A lover finds his mistress asleep on a mossy bank; he wishes to catch a glimpse of her fair face without waking her. He steals softly over the grass, careful to make no sound; he pauses -- fancying she has stirred: he withdraws: not for worlds would ...
From my insufficiency to my perfection, and from my deviation to my equilibrium From my sublimity to my beauty, and from my splendor to my majesty From my scattering to my gathering, and from my rejection to my communion From my baseness to my precio...
Uncle Vernon: He will not be going, I tell you! We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to all this rubbish! Harry: You knew? You knew all along and you never told me? Aunt Petunia: Of course we knew. How could you not be? My perfect sister bein...
