Why had he never appreciated the miracle that he was, brain and nerve and bounding heart?

He felt that he was still groping in the dark; he had chosen his path but kept looking back, wondering whether he had misread the signs, whether he should not have taken the other way.

Life is too short. I only want to do things that I enjoy, or that I think are good or worth doing.

How do you feel, Georgie?" whispered Mrs. Weasley. George's fingers groped for the side of his head. "Saintlike," he murmured. "What's wrong with him?" croaked Fred, looking terrified. "Is his mind affected?" "Saintlike," repeated George, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother. "You see...I'm HOLEY, Fred, geddit?

HARRY, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A GENTLEMAN!" Wood roared as Harry swerved to avoid collision. "KNOCK HER OFF HER BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO!

We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!

I’m very busy with schoolwork, of course." "How can she be?" said Ron in horror. "We’re on vacation!