First think of the person who lives in disguise, Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies. Next, tell me what's always the last thing to mend, The middle of middle and the end of end? And finally give me the sound often heard During the search for a hard-to-find word. Now string them together, and answer me this, Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?
J. K. RowlingI'll be writing until I can't write anymore. It's a compulsion with me. I love writing.
J. K. RowlingMy parents are muggles, mate. They don't know nothing about no deaths at Hogwarts, because I'm not stupid enough to tell them.
J. K. RowlingI hope that even if you remember not a single word of mine, you remember those of Seneca, another of those old Romans I met when I fled down the Classics corridor, in retreat from career ladders, in search of ancient wisdom: As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters.
J. K. Rowling