Harry Potter: The Boy who Lived, and whose story will live forever in all our hearts

This is so lovely.



It's remarkable to see how far the Harry Potter books have gone, the books that taught me more about writing style than my teachers and any other book I've read.
In my childhood, the Harry Potter series would be the only books me and my siblings would read, and we read it daily and nightly. I remember waking up in the middle of night many times, unable to enter sleep, and grabbing the nearest copy of the Harry Potter books on the bedside table, flipping on the lamp that's stowed under a small table for this very purpose, and reading under the table in the lamplight. The wearing-out and fraying of the Harry Potter books that sit on our shelves only go to show the number of times they had been fondly flipped , studied, and lugged around (particularly the fifth book, "The Order of the Phoenix," which contains the largest number of loose pages in all of our books).  When the seventh book came out, me, my siblings and my dad were taking it in turns to read. It seemed that the series that gave us so much strength, humour and enlightenment had concluded. However, we still had the movies to live on and we'd await their releases with growing excitement. I finally watched 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2" this morning and I think it was a successful wrap to the series,  and did the book justice.

Never will I forget the wand duels I used to stage with my friends and family, or the times when I dressed up as Hermoine for Halloween. Neither will I forget the funny quotes and stories from the books that have been imprinted upon my brain such as Phineas Nigellus calling Harry a 'puffed-up popinjay,' Hermoine founding 'spew,' and the heroic flight of the Weasley twins.

It's been a long journey and although the books and movies have come to a close, the story will forever live on in my heart.

Quotes from Jane Austen's Memoir

True taste is not fastidious, nor rejects,
Because they may not come within the rule
Of composition pure and picturesque,
Unnumbered simple scenes which fill the leaves
Of Nature's sketch book.

Nor does life's stream for observation stay;
It hurries all too fast to mark their way.

To gallop all the country over,
The last night's partner to behold,
And humbly hope she caught no cold.

Through the rough paths of life, with a patten your guard,
May you safely and pleasantly jog;
May the knot never slip, nor the ring press too hard,
Nor the foot find the Patten a clog.

This little bag, I hope, will prove
To be not vainly made;
For should you thread and needles want,
It will afford you aid.

And, as we are about to part,
'T will serve another end:
For, when you look upon this bag,
You'll recollect your friend.

Silent when glad, affectionate tho' shy,
And in his looks was most demurely sad;
And now lie laughed aloud, yet none knew why.