No, I'm fine,' said Harry, wondering why he kept telling people this, and wondering whether he had ever been less fine.

I'm going to keep going until I succeed — or die. Don't think I don't know how this might end. I've known it for years.

Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

No, thanks," said Harry. "The toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it— it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.

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

I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter’s son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter —

Harry, despite your privileged insight into Voldemort’s world (which, incidentally, is a gift any Death Eater would kill to have), you have never been seduced by the Dark Arts, never, even for a second, shown the slightest desire to become one of Voldemort’s followers!” “Of course I haven’t!” said Harry indignantly. “He killed my mum and dad!” “You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!” said Dumbledore loudly.