I take comfort in thinking that maybe Robin Williams didn’t really die. He’s just stuck in a board game somewhere, waiting for someone to roll a 5 or an 8.
Nothing will ruin your 20’s more than thinking you should have your life together already.
I feel like James Potter would just have a million different nicknames for Harry that were not his name, but Harry would gurgle and giggle in response to him anyway. Like, “Hey, little billy goat,” and “What do you have in your mouth, ladybug?” and “Give Daddy his specs back, butterbeer.”
a shooting star is actually someone driving off rainbow road