J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

"No, thanks,"said Harry. "The toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it— it might be sick."Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said."

"You haven't got a letter on yours,"George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid-we know we're called Gred and Forge."

"Do you mean ter tell me,"he growled at the Dursleys, "that this boy—this boy!—knows nothin' abou'—about ANYTHING?"Harry thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks weren't bad."I know some things,"he said. "I can, you know, do math and stuff."

"Alas! Earwax!"

"Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march."

"To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

"As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all - the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

"They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat. "Get the mail, Dudley,"said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper. "Make Harry get it.""Get the mail, Harry.""Make Dudley get it.""Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."