Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers. "I'm not putting them on," said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks.

I was convinced that the only thing I wanted to do ever - was write novels.

But Colin's only understanding of love was of limitless loyalty, boundless tolerance.

Professor Flitwick had dried himself off and set Seamus lines ("I am a wizard not a baboon brandishing a stick")

Part of what makes a language 'alive' is its constant evolution. I would hate to think Britain would ever emulate France, where they actually have a learned faculty whose job it is to attempt to prevent the incursion of foreign words into the language. I love editing Harry with Arthur Levine, my American editor-the differences between 'British English' (of which there must be at least 200 versions) and 'American English' (ditto!) are a source of constant interest and amusement to me.

The realization of what would happen next settled gradually over Harry in the long minutes, like softly falling snow. "I've got to go back, haven't I?" "That is up to you." "I've got a choice?" "Oh yes." Dumbledore smiled at him. "We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to…let's say…board a train." "And where would it take me?" "On," said Dumbledore simply.

Dumbledore's man through and through, aren't you Potter?" "Yeah I am," said Harry. "Glad we straightened that out.