Nobody's ever asked me to a party before, as a friend. Is that why you dyed your eyebrow, for the party? Should I do mine too?

OH NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!” Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar - a cat reading a map.

You are the true master of death, because the true master does not seek to run away from Death. He accepts that be must die, and understands that there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying.

The moment you are old enough to take the wheel, responsibility lies with you.

Harry constantly repeated Dumbledore's final words to himself. "I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. ... Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it. "But what good were these words? Who exactly were they supposed to ask for help, when everyone was just as confused and scared as they were?

Well I think it is often the case that the biggest bullies take what they know to be their own defects, as they see it, and they put them right on someone else and then they try and destroy the other and that's what Voldemort does.