Here Lies Dobby, A Free Elf.

Everybody Finished The Song At Different Times. At Last, Only The Weasley Twins Were Left Singing Along To A Very Slow Funeral March.

He Never Seemed To Grasp The Immense Mutability Of Human Nature, Nor To Appreciate That Behind Every Nondescript Face Lay A Wild And Unique Hinterland Like His Own.

Rita Looked As Though She Would Have Liked Nothing Better Than To Seize The Paper Umbrella Sticking Out Of Hermione's Drink And Thrust It Up Her Nose.

Just Think How Many Books I Could've Sold If Harry Had Been A Bit More Creative With His Wand." -[on The Success Of 50 Shades Of Grey]

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.