I think they ought to know. You do them a disservice by not confiding something this important to them.” “I didn’t want —” “— to worry or frighten them?” said Dumbledore, surveying Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles. “Or perhaps, to confess that you yourself are worried and frightened? You need your friends, Harry. As you so rightly said, Sirius would not have wanted you to shut yourself away.

There will be books written about Harry. Every child in the world will know his name.

Secretly we're all a little more absurd than we make ourselves out to be.

Failure, failure is so important, it doesn’t get spoken about enough, we speak about success all the time.

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

He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

She was actively frightened of imparting confidences, because she feared that they might betray the world of oddness that lived inside her