*walks back into the room holding all 7 of the Harry Potter books, the original screenplay of the cursed child and fbawtft, the tales of beedle the bard, Quidditch throught the ages, fantastic beasts and where to find them, all of the dvds for Harry Potter, fantastic beasts and the movie about jk Rowling while wearing all my Harry Potter shirts layered on top of each other, my house scarf, Harry Potter socks and holding a tankard of butter beer and my wand with a time tuner dangling around my neck*
There was a fella once running for a train, and he’s carrying a pair of gloves, this man. He drops a glove on the platform, but he doesn’t notice. And then later on, inside the train, he’s sitting by the window and he realizes that he’s just got this one glove left. But the train’s already started pulling out of the station, right? So what does he do? He opens the window and he drops the other glove onto the platform. That way, whoever finds the first glove can just have the pair.
“It’s such a beautiful visual form of communication, and yet it’s completely private. If you don’t speak sign language, you don’t know what they’re saying. So it just seemed Coen-esque to have these very sort of lethal characters who have these completely private exchanges in front of other people,” Hawley said, referring to the tone of the Coen brothers movie of the same name.
Once upon a time, there was a little boy. He was born in a field and raised in the woods. And he had nothing. In the winter the boy would freeze, and in the summer he would boil. He knew the name of every stinging insect. At night he would look at the lights in the houses, and he would want. Why was he outside and they in? Why was he so hungry and they fed? “It should be me,” he said. And out of the darkness the wolves came, whispering. Fargo 1x6: Buridan’s Ass