From now on, I don't care if my tea leaves spell 'Die, Ron,... - J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

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

"Why were you lurking under our window?""Yes - yes, good point, Petunia! What were you doing under our windows, boy?""Listening to the news,"said Harry in a resigned voice.His aunt and uncle exchanged looks of outrage."Listening to the news! Again?""Well, it changes every day, you see,"said Harry."

"Ask us no questions and we’ll tell you no lies."

"Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect."

"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."