Then he heard a terrible cry that pulled at his insides, that expressed agony of a kind that neither flame nor curse could cause, and he stood up, swaying, more frightened than he had been that day, more frightened, perhaps, than he had been in his whole life.

Harry: "And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?” Ron: “Throw it away and punch him on the nose.

Many parts of my life are perfectly ordinary, if that's what you mean. One could even call it boring, but that's what I like about it.

The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.

Wild!" Ron said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. "I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again... and again... and again...

Sirius's gaunt face broke out into the first true smile Harry had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask; for a moment he was recognizable as the man who had laughed at Harry's parents' wedding.

Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love.