There. Maybe if you're lucky, you'll get a scar! That's what you want, isn't it?

I love a good Dorothy L. Sayers.

You are the true master of death, because the true master does not seek to run away from Death.

He lay face down, listening to the silence. He was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching. Nobody else was there. He was not perfectly sure that he was there himself.

Odd words floated back to them over the hundreds of heads. "Nobility of spirit"..."intellectual contribution"..."greatness of heart"...It did not mean very much. It had little to do with Dumbledore as Harry had known him. He suddenly remembered Dumbledore's idea of a few words, "nitwit," "oddment," "blubber," and "tweak," and again had to suppress a grin.

Xenophilius Lovegood," he said, extending a hand to Harry. "My daughter and I live over the hill, so kind of the Weasleys to invite us. I think you know my Luna?" he added to Ron."Yes" said Ron. "Isn't she with you?""She lingered in that charming little garden to say hello to the gnomes, such a glorious infestation! How few wizards realize just how much we can learn from the wise little gnomes - or, to give then their correct names, the Gernumbli gardensi.""Ours do know a lot of excellent swear words," said Ron, "but I think Fred and George taught them those.

The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and must therefore be treated with great caution.