Always the innocent are the first victims, so it has been for ages past, so it is now.

Bidding the wizard farewell, he turned to his daughter, who held up her finger and said, “Daddy, look — one of the gnomes actually bit me!” “How wonderful! Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial!” said Mr. Lovegood, seizing Luna’s outstretched finger and examining the bleeding puncture marks. “Luna, my love, if you should feel any burgeoning talent today — perhaps an unexpected urge to sing opera or to declaim in Mermish — do not repress it! You may have been gifted by the Gernumblies!” Ron, passing them in the opposite direction, let out a loud snort.

Without cunning, there is no innovation. Without ambition, there is no accomplishment.

A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of.

Although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business. Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git. Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor. Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.

I see a light in the kitchen. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore how thin you are.