fleursdemontblanc
Somebody actually handed in my lost earring. I couldn't believe it. I knew one had slipped out somewhere in Stage J at the Harry Potter studio visit, but I never expected somebody would be honest enough, or CARE enough to hand it in. They were special earrings. Are special earrings. I bought them in Carcassonne and they have the Languedoc cross in coral and silver. They're even more special now that somebody returned the lost one. Now, THAT'S magic!
When they've finished dancing, beautiful, hypnotic, mesmerizing, all that's left is ash.
Two hours on a low light. With mint and new potatoes. What else is there to say?
It took her a long time to discover what her own weakness was: her strength. He'd been attracted to this strong woman, this female who promised to put everything right for him, but in the end she'd emasculated him and he didn't want her any more. What a weakling!
You have to get it into your head, this word. There's no point in messing about. If you want to get the real meaning out of it you have to give it your full concentration, feel it in your bones like, well, like bones. Where would you be without THEM, huh? You'd be in a bucket and somebody would be carrying you home in it. Instill this, folks. Concentrate, people! Instill. It becomes part of you, then. I am instilled with instill. I can write no more.