Hope springs forever.

The poor things keep calling in those – those pumbles, I think they're called – you know, the ones who mend pipes and things – " "Plumbers?" " – exactly, yes, but of course they're flummoxed.

Once again I must ask too much of you, Harry.

It has certainly never been news to me that a brave and brilliant man could love other men.

I DON'T CARE!" Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!

These girls... they're going to kill me, Harry.

I've been writing my entire life, and I'll always write. But at times I have told myself that I don't necessarily have to publish anything else.