I think what is probably hard for people to imagine is how wrapped up the 17 years' work on Harry Potter is with what was going on in my life at the time. I was mourning the loss of this world that I had written for so long and loved so much. I was also mourning the retreat it had been from - from ordinary life, which it has been. And it forced me to look back at 17 years of my life and remember things.

If it's a good book, anyone will read it. I'm totally unashamed about still reading things I loved in my childhood.

There's nothing better when something comes and hits you and you think 'YES'!

Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?

To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever.

I’m not a freak. That’s a horrible thing to say." "That’s where you’re going. A special school for freaks. You and that Snape boy ... weirdos, that’s what you two are..." "You didn’t think it was such a freak’s school when you wrote the headmaster and begged him to take you.

It frightened people when you were honest; it shocked them.