It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might has well not have lived at all, in which case you have failed by default.
We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, Harry, but battle on.
We're all human, aren't we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.
Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young.
It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends.
It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be.
Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.
What’s comin’ will come, an’ we’ll meet it when it does.
The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters.
It is a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up.
Next time there’s a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!
Holey? You have the the whole world of ear-related humor before you, you go for holey?
Well, I certainly don't," said Percy sanctimoniously. "I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days." "Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred. "That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!" said Percy, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!" "It was," Fred whispered to Harry as they got up from the table. "We sent it.
Seventeen, eh!" said Hagrid as he accepted a bucket-sized glass of wine from Fred. "Six years to the day we met, Harry, d’yeh remember it?" "Vaguely," said Harry, grinning up at him. "Didn’t you smash down the front door, give Dudley a pig’s tail, and tell me I was a wizard?" "I forge’ the details," Hagrid chortled.
The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by an invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing.
How do you feel, Georgie?" whispered Mrs. Weasley. George's fingers groped for the side of his head. "Saintlike," he murmured. "What's wrong with him?" croaked Fred, looking terrified. "Is his mind affected?" "Saintlike," repeated George, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother. "You see...I'm HOLEY, Fred, geddit?
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.
What are Fred and I? Next door neighbors?
Working hard is important. But there is something that matters even more, believing in yourself.
The stories we love best do live in us forever.
Whether you come back by page or by the big screen, Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.
Curiosity is not a sin.... But we should exercise caution with our curiosity... yes, indeed.
Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.
We've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are.
We have to choose between what is right, and what is easy.
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