By all means continue destroying my possessions. I daresay I... - J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

"Give her hell from us, Peeves."

"I’ll make Goyle do lines, it’ll kill him, he hates writing,” said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle’s low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair. “I... must... not... look... like... a... baboon’s... backside."

"I am not forgotten, you know, no, I still receive a very great deal of fan mail.. . . Gladys Gudgeon writes weekly. . . . I just wish I knew why. . . .”He paused, looking faintly puzzled, then beamed again and returned to his signing with renewed vigor. “I suspect it is simply my good looks. . . ."

"And anyway, it’s not as though I’ll never see Mum again, is it?"

"The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter... or at least, most minds are..."