I would always want printed books.

'It was stupid, thinking it was him, I mean, I knew he was dead' Harry muttered. 'You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him....You know, Harry, in a way you did see your father last night....You found him inside yourself.'

Birth and death: there was the same consciousness of heightened existence and of her own elevated importance

Killing rips the soul apart.

Fame is a fickle friend, Harry. Celebrity is as celebrity does. Remember that.

You are — truly your father’s son, Harry. . . .

Don't be stupid, it's a flying house!