No witch has ever claimed to own the Elder Wand. Make of that what you will.

Parminder kept her unwept tears locked tightly inside where they seemed to undergo an alchemical transformation, returning to the outer world as lava slides of rage.

Books are like mirrors: if a fool looks in, you cannot expect a genius to look out.

She had a way of moving that moved him as much as music, which was what moved him most of all. Surely the spirit animating that pearless body must be unusual too? Why would nature make a vessel like that, if not to contain something still more valuable?

My daughter Jessica said to me recently, who wasn't sorted into Hufflepuff, 'I think we should all want to be Hufflepuffs.' I can only say to you, I would not be disappointed at all to be in Hufflepuff. I'm a little upset anyone does feel that way.

First sign of madness, talking to your own head.

Neville kicked aside the broken fragments of his own wand as they walked slowly toward the door. "My gran's going do kill be," said Neville thickly, blood spattering from his nose as he spoke, "dat was by dad's old wand.