Harry lost any sense of where they were: Streetlights above him, yells around him, he was clinging to the sidecar for dear life. Hedwig’s cage, the Firebolt, and his rucksack slipped from beneath his knees — “No — HEDWIG!” The broomstick spun to earth, but he just managed to seize the strap of his rucksack and the top of the cage as the motorbike swung the right way up again. A second’s relief, and then another burst of green light. The owl screeched and fell to the floor of the cage. “No — NO!” The motorbike zoomed forward; Harry glimpsed hooded Death Eaters scattering as Hagrid blasted through their circle. “Hedwig — Hedwig —” But the owl lay motionless and pathetic as a toy on the floor of her cage.
I think that perhaps if I had had to slow down the ideas so that I could capture them on paper I might have stifled some of them.
Writing for me is a kind of compulsion, so I don't think anyone could have made me do it, or prevented me from doing it.
Destiny is a name often given in retrospect to choices that had dramatic consequences.
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil.
Something very magical happens when you read a good book:)
The knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you are, ever after, secure in your ability to survive. You will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity.
Sometimes, if she simply remained quiet, and let the inadequacy of his excuses reverberate on the air, he became ashamed and backtracked.
She seemed to think that one of the perks of marriage was that it gave you rights of comment and intrusion over single people's love lives.
Time is Galleons, little brother.
I mean, you could claim that anything's real if the only basis for believing in it is that nobody's proved it doesn't exist!
His priority did not seem to be to teach them what he knew, but rather to impress upon them that nothing, not even... knowledge, was foolproof.
said Sirius seriously
I think it’s the books that you read when you’re young that live with you forever.
Madam Pince, our librarian, tells me that it is 'pawed about, dribbled on, and generally maltreated' nearly everyday - a high compliment for any book.