If You Don’t Like To Read, You

Whatever House I'm In, I Hope She's Not In It.

He [uncle Vernon] Held Up The Envelope In Which Mrs. Weasley’s Letter Had Come, And Harry Had To Fight Down A Laugh. Every Bit Of It Was Covered In Stamps Except For A Square Inch On The Front, Into Which Mrs. Weasley Had Squeezed The Dursleys’ Address In Minute Writing. “she Did Put Enough Stamps On, Then,” Said Harry, Trying To Sound As Though Mrs. Weasley’s Was A Mistake Anyone Could Make.

If He Doesn't Stop Trying To Save Your Life He's Going To Kill You.

I Think It's Alarming That People Believe That Success Enables One To Forget How Life Felt Before. As If One Could Simply Exchange One's Values.

Never Trust Anything That Can Think For Itself If You Can't See Where It Keeps Its Brain.