My brain surprises even me sometimes.

Dumbledore raised his finger for silence, a silence which fell as though he had struck Uncle Vernon dumb.

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work.

Killed?" said Hagrid loudly, staring down at Harry. "Snape killed? What're yeh on abou', Harry?" "Dumbledore," said Harry. "Snape killed... Dumbledore.

To hurt is as human as to breathe.

How awful it was, thought Tessa, remembering Fats the toddler, the way tiny ghosts of your living children haunted your heart; they could never know, and would hate it if they did, how their growing was a constant bereavement.

I think the willfully unimaginative see more monsters. They are often more afraid.