“An Unbreakable Vow?" said Ron, looking stunned. "Nah, he can’t have.... Are you sure?"
"Yes I’m sure," said Harry. "Why, what does it mean?"
"Well, you can’t break an Unbreakable Vow..."
"I’d worked that much out for myself, funnily enough.”
― Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
"Yes I’m sure," said Harry. "Why, what does it mean?"
"Well, you can’t break an Unbreakable Vow..."
"I’d worked that much out for myself, funnily enough.”
― Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
“You do have a story inside you; it lies articulate and waiting to be written — behind your silence and your suffering.”
―
―
“He had heard about talking to plants in the early seventies, on Radio Four, and thought it was an excellent idea. Although talking is perhaps the wrong word for what Crowley did.
What he did was put the fear of God into them.
More precisely, the fear of Crowley.
In addition to which, every couple of months Crowley would pick out a plant that was growing too slowly, or succumbing to leaf-wilt or browning, or just didn't look quite as good as the others, and he would carry it around to all the other plants. "Say goodbye to your friend," he'd say to them. "He just couldn't cut it. . . "
Then he would leave the flat with the offending plant, and return an hour or so later with a large, empty flower pot, which he would leave somewhere conspicuously around the flat.
The plants were the most luxurious, verdant, and beautiful in London. Also the most terrified.”
― Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch
What he did was put the fear of God into them.
More precisely, the fear of Crowley.
In addition to which, every couple of months Crowley would pick out a plant that was growing too slowly, or succumbing to leaf-wilt or browning, or just didn't look quite as good as the others, and he would carry it around to all the other plants. "Say goodbye to your friend," he'd say to them. "He just couldn't cut it. . . "
Then he would leave the flat with the offending plant, and return an hour or so later with a large, empty flower pot, which he would leave somewhere conspicuously around the flat.
The plants were the most luxurious, verdant, and beautiful in London. Also the most terrified.”
― Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch
“When the Fox hears the Rabbit scream he comes a-runnin', but not to help.”
― The Silence of the Lambs
― The Silence of the Lambs
“There is only one genre in fiction, the genre is called book.”
― The Humans
― The Humans
Jenny’s 2025 Year in Books
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