You know, Minister, I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts...but you cannot deny he's got style.

I will defend the importance of bedtime stories to my last gasp.

Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?” James lifted an invisible sword. “‘Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.” Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him. “Got a problem with that?” “No,” said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy —” “Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” interjected Sirius.

Deliberately causing mayhem in Snape's Potions class was about as safe as poking a sleeping dragon in the eye.

This is not about money or anything other than the pleasure of reading for people who want to read it.

He accused me of being Dumbledore's man through and through." "How very rude of him." "I told him I was." Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. Fawkes the phoenix let out a low, soft, musical cry. To Harry's intense embarrassment, he suddenly realized that Dumbledore's bright blue eyes looked rather watery, and stared hastily at his own knee. When Dumbledore spoke, however, his voice was quite steady. "I am very touched, Harry.

It is not about striving for immortality, but about accepting mortality.