Er — have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?” Harry asked, hoping he sounded offhand. “Never at Hogwarts. We’ve had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. You don’t have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers —” “— unless they crack my head open.” “Don’t worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers — I mean, they’re like a pair of human Bludgers themselves.

Ooh, you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry" said Hermione, before catching sight of Ron's raised eyebrows, blushing slightly and saying "oh you know what I mean - Goyle's Potion looked like bogies.

Even You-Know-Who can't split himself into seven.

I'm very frustrated by fear of imagination. I don't think that's healthy.

The world is my oyster. I can do whatever I like.

I have never been remotely ashamed of having been depressed. Never. What's to be ashamed of? I went through a really rough time and I am quite proud that I got out of that.

You think the dead we loved truly ever leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly in times of great trouble?