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Remus Lupin Quotes

Browse 39 quotes about Remus Lupin.

Remus Lupin Quotes

“Eventually he would came to learn that there was a technique in music that felt a lot like this, called ‘tempo rubato’. It involved speeding or slowing the traditional tempo of a song to invoke new feeling, as beautiful representation of freedom that relied completely on the discretion of the musician. If done incorrectly the technique could effectively butcher a thing of beauty—but if done right, it could award complete and utter freedom over the most expressive art known to man. That rubato was the thing one heard when an orchestra conductor briefly slowed a key moment in a classical piece. It was that breath at the end of a love ballad where your very heart felt as though it was shattering. It was responsible for every moment of emotion felt by conscious beings capable of hearing a music note played aloud. Tempo rubato meant ‘robbed time’. That was the name humans gave to the concept. Like a word, time could not be captured, so people did the only thing they could, they attempted to defy it. They used surgeries to fix the physical flaws that came with age, and took photographs to help them remember a moment otherwise lost. People defied time by naming it. They called the past ‘memories’ and the future ‘what’s yet to pass’. They called hopelessness ‘rubato’, and in doing so, they granted themselves the illusion of controlling time. At least, that's how he'd described it whenever someone cared enough to ask. But still, it remained a comforting thought. If someone could speed up or slow down something as uncapturable as music—as pure emotion—then maybe time really was within their control. But everyone knew it wasn't possible. Not really. Whether as a conscious realisation or an inherent knowing, the answer was clear; time passed with or without people. With or without photographs or tempo. It always did, and it was easy to look back and desperately want to cling to it. Natural even, because what was behind was clear—it'd already been lived. It was the unknown ahead that scared people. At sixteen Remus couldn’t have told anyone what a ‘tempo rubato’ was, but he’d been unknowingly experiencing it all his life. Being at school felt like the traditional, fast-moving tempo of the piece, and those few precious moments in the flat were his rubato. There he couldn’t play or make music, he could only listen and live. Conversations were without any real goal, the days blurred into one another, and the nights felt endless but not hopeless. There was very little action or adventure and that was how he liked it. The flat was rubato, one he’d never find anywhere else. There would be others, yes, but none the same. If he’d known then maybe he would’ve taken more pictures and less drugs so he could better commit them to memory. But that’s the thing about memories—in the moment they’re not memories at all. They’re not even time. They’re just life.”

“They call it the Dementor’s Kiss,” said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile. “It’s what dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and — and suck out his soul.” Harry accidentally spat out a bit of butterbeer. “What — they kill — ?” “Oh no,” said Lupin. “Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you’ll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no… anything. There’s no chance at all of recovery. You’ll just — exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever… lost.”

“We solemnly swear that we are up to no good. On this fortnight of October 31st, 1975, the four Marauders agree to follow each other until death do us part. We also agree to always keep secret the Great Power that we possess. Oh, yes- and one more thing. To make Snivellus's life during and after Hogwarts a living hell. Signed (in no significant order), Padfoot Moony Prongs Wormtail”

“And you’re avoiding your problems again!” Sirius raged, “You always do this and it’s so bloody exhausting! You think you’re being so mature, do you? Keeping everything bottled up. It’s stupid! You’re just making a martyr of yourself, it’s like you want to be miserable.” “Oh, get fucked, Black!” Remus shouted back. “Easy for you to have a go, isn’t it?! Why do we always have to talk about my shit life, hm?! Mr ‘tell me a fucking secret’?!” Sirius blinked, shocked, and Remus was elated; he had something now. He had Sirius in his jaws, he wasn’t letting go until he tasted blood. “What about you, Sirius?! How come we never get to talk about your fucked up family, with your death eater brother and your insane cousin?! Why don’t we talk about your pain, and your scars for a little while, see how that feels.” “Remus, for fuck’s sake--” “No, I know! Why don’t we talk about your mother?” Remus went in for the kill, and it was more effective than even he had expected. Sirius changed completely; his expression froze, his posture tensed, as if he’d been punched in the gut. Remus almost wished he had punched him, because then at least Sirius could just punch him back, and they could have a fair fight, and that would be it. But that hadn’t been fair, and he couldn’t take it back. Sirius gave him a look of utter hurt and shock, before turning quickly to anger. “Go fuck yourself, Lupin.” He spat, storming out.”

“It’s… did it happen to you at the home? Where you grew up?” There was something odd in Sirius’ voice. Remus found he couldn’t speak, so he just nodded. Sirius nodded too. “I’ve got scars.” He said, so quietly that Remus thought he’d misheard at first. Sirius bent down, and pulled up his trouser leg, turning his ankle to show Remus the marks there. His scars weren’t like Remus’ – which were big and rough and jagged, full of rage and hunger. The silver stripes on the backs of Sirius’ legs were thin and straight; uniform in their cruelty. Remus stared for a few seconds, before Sirius dropped the edge of the fabric and straightened up. They stared each other down for a full minute. Remus feeling very hot, Sirius’ eyes cool and calm. Then it broke. “Shall we go and watch James making a prat of himself?” Sirius asked. Remus nodded again, and they both stepped back out into the cold autumn air.”

“Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business. Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git. Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor. Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.”

“Did you like question ten, Moony?" asked Sirius as they emerged into the entrance hall. "Loved it," said Lupin briskly. "Give five signs that identify the werewolf. Excellent question." "D'you think you managed to get all the signs?" said James in tones of mock concern. "Think I did," said Lupin seriously, as they joined the crowd thronging around the front doors eager to get out into the sunlit grounds. "One: He's sitting on my chair. Two: He's wearing my clothes. Three: His name's Remus Lupin.”

“You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you’ll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no . . . anything. There’s no chance at all of recovery. You’ll just — exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever . . . lost.”

“Just — just to be clear,” he said. “You want to leave Tonks at her parents’ house and come away with us?” “She’ll be perfectly safe there, they’ll look after her,” said Lupin. He spoke with a finality bordering on indifference. “Harry, I’m sure James would have wanted me to stick with you.” “Well,” said Harry slowly, “I’m not. I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually.”

“Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.”

“Remus Lupin was supposed to be on the H.I.V. metaphor. It was someone who had been infected young, who suffered stigma, who had a fear of infecting others, who was terrified he would pass on his condition to his son. And it was a way of examining prejudice, unwarranted prejudice towards a group of people. And also, examining why people might become embittered when they're treated that unfairly.”