The smell from the kitchen was getting stronger: It was something like burning underpants.

What do you see when you look in the mirror? I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks. Harry stared. One can never have enough socks, said Dumbledore. Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books.

Failure is a stripping away of the inessential.

Well, hello, Peter, said Lupin pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. Long time, no see.

When you say ‘master of Death’-- said Ron.

I don't believe in the kind of magic in my books. But I do believe something very magical can happen when you read a good book.

Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you. Harry looked mockingly all around the shop. Wow . . . look at that . . . he's not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!