"Luna had decorated her bedroom ceiling with five beautifully painted faces: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. They were not moving as the portraits at Hogwarts moved, but there was a certain magic about them all the same; Harry thought they breathed. What appeared to be fine golden chains wove around the pictures, linking them together, but after examining them for a minute or so, Harry realized that the chains were actually one word, repeated a thousand times in golden ink: friends…friends…friends…friends… Harry felt a great rush of affection for Luna" — Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
I will never cease to be amazed by books. Seriously. Just think about it: thousands of people read the same book but in each one’s mind the characters look different and the setting changes and we’re all reading the same thing but it’s so unique to each of us. That is insanely cool.
“An anthropologist proposed a game to children in an african tribe. He put a basket full of fruit near a tree and told the children that whoever got there first won the sweet fruits. When he told them to run, they all took eachothers hands and ran together, then sat together enjoying their treats.
When he asked them why they had run like that when one could have had all the fruits for himself, they said ‘UBUNTU, how can one of us be happy if all the others are sad?’ (‘UBUNTU’ in the Xhosa culture means: ‘I am because we are)”
Literally the opposite of the American world view of “I can only be happy if somebody else has less than me”