Besides, the world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters. We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.
"I’ve been marathoning Twilight movies all day, which has been totally enjoyable…
and I’m thinking about how easy it becomes to dehumanize the creator or fans of something extremely popular. I’ve done this, too. I made fun of the Twilight movies without even having watched them. I’m sorry for that, and embarrassed. When we make fun of Twilight, we’re ridiculing the enthusiasm people have for unironic love stories. Have we nothing better to satirize? Yes, you can read misogynistic gender dynamics into the stories, but tens of millions of people have also proven that you don’t HAVE to. Do we really believe that tens of millions of people who found themselves comforted and inspired by these stories are merely wrong? Isn’t our disdain FAR more misogynistic than anything in the stories? Art that is entertaining and useful to people is a good thing to have in this world. And I’m grateful for it and celebrate it. So big ups to the Twilight fandom, and to Stephenie Meyer, who has been relentlessly attacked professionally and personally over Twilight…in ways that male authors of love stories never are. I’m gonna go back to watching the movies now. /rant”
- John Green
For me acting is a passion and an art, and always will only be that. I don’t have any rules when it comes to acting. I’ll do anything. But it depends on the script. Either I’ll have passion for the project or I won’t. It’s got to fuel me.
When you love someone, you don’t let them push you away.
“You think my first instinct is to protect you. Because you’re small, or a girl, or a Stiff. But you’re wrong.”
He leans his face close to mine and wraps his fingers around my chin. His hand smells like metal. When was the last time he held a gun, or a knife? My skin tingles at the point of contact, like he’s transmitting electricity through his skin.
"My first instinct is to push you until you break, just to see how hard I have to press.” he says, his fingers squeezing at the word break. My body tenses at the edge in his voice, so I am coiled as tight as a spring, and I forget to breathe.
His dark eyes lifting to mine, he adds, “But I resist it.”
"Why…" I swallow hard. "Why is that your first instinct?"
"Fear doesn’t shut you down; it wakes you up. I’ve seen it. It’s fascinating." He releases me but doesn’t pull away, his hand grazing my jaw, my neck. "Sometimes I just want to see it again. Want to see you awake.