A Rat Is Neither Good Nor Evil.

What Do We Mean By 'crazy?' What Do We Mean By 'mad?' At What Point Is A Person Just Different And At What Point Can We Call It A Disease And Say That They Are Not Responsible For Their Actions? Or Are We All Slaves To The Chemical Processes That Go On In Our Brains?

The Only Pressure I Feel Is To Write Good Books. And To Not Replicate The Previous Book. Whether You Have A Thousand Readers Or A Million Readers It Doesn't Change The Pressure. I Never Feel Tempted To Give The Reader What I Think The Reader Wants.

It Was As If The Demise Of The Owner Had Lent The Flat A Physical Void It Hadn't Had Before. At The Same Time He Had The Feeling That He Wasn't Alone. Harry Believed In The Existence Of The Soul. Not That He Was Particularly Religious As Such, But It Was One Thing Which Always Struck Him When He Saw A Dead Body: The Body Was Bereft Of Something...the Creature Had Gone, The Light Had Gone,there Was Not The Illusory Afterglow That Long-since Burned-out Stars Have. The Body Was Missing Its Soul And It Was The Absence Of The Soul That Made Harry Believe.

I've Read That It's The Smell Some Carnivores Use To Find Their Prey. Imagine The Trembling Victim Trying To Hide, But Knowing That The Smell Of Its Own Fear Will Kill It.

Intuition Is Just The Sum Of All Your Experience. The Way I See It, Everything You’ve Experienced, Everything You Know, You Think You Know And Didn’t Know You Knew Is There In Your Subconscious Lying Dormant, As It Were. As A Rule You Don’t Notice The Sleeping Creature, It’s Just There, Snoring And Absorbing New Things, Right. But Now And Then It Blinks, Stretches And Tells You, Hey, I’ve Seen This Picture Before. And Tells You Where In The Picture Things Belong.