Humans have a knack for choosing precisely the things that are worst for them.

When he straightened up again, there were six Harry Potters gasping and panting in front of him. Fred and George turned to each other and said together, "Wow -- we're identical!

Sirius looked slightly disconcerted for a moment, then said, "I'll look for him later, I expect I'll find him upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother's old bloomers or something... Of course, he might have crawled into the airing cupboard and died... But I mustn't get my hopes up.

Age is foolish and forgetful when it underestimates youth.

Odd words floated back to them over the hundreds of heads. "Nobility of spirit"..."intellectual contribution"..."greatness of heart"...It did not mean very much. It had little to do with Dumbledore as Harry had known him. He suddenly remembered Dumbledore's idea of a few words, "nitwit," "oddment," "blubber," and "tweak," and again had to suppress a grin.

You don't have sex near unicorns. It's an ironclad rule. It's tacky.

Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.