Happy birthday, Alexander, Magnus murmured. Thanks for remembering, Alec whispered back.
And I rose In rainy autumn And walked abroad in a shower of all my days...
I grabbed a pile of dust, and holding it up, foolishly asked for as many birthdays as the grains of dust, I forgot to ask that they be years of youth.
Tucker: But she gave me the perfect gift. Clara: What? Tucker: You.
Romance novels are birthday cake and life is often peanut butter and jelly. I think everyone should have lots of delicious romance novels lying around for those times when the peanut butter of life gets stuck to the roof of your mouth.
Let gratitude be the pillow upon which you kneel to say your nightly prayer. And let faith be the bridge you build to overcome evil and welcome good.
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.
Seventeen, eh! said Hagrid as he accepted a bucket-sized glass of wine from Fred. Six years to the day we met, Harry, d’yeh remember it? Vaguely, said Harry, grinning up at him. Didn’t you smash down the front door, give Dudley a pig’s tail, and tell me I was a wizard? I forge’ the details, Hagrid chortled.