Oh, Honestly, Don't You Two Read?

Hermione: You! You Foul, Loathsome, Evil Little Cocroach! Ron: Hermione, No! He's No Worth It.

From Here On In, Harry, I May Be As Woefully Wrong As Humphrey Belcher Who Believed The Time Was Ripe For A Cheese Cauldron.

Yeah, But Coming From Dudley That's Like "i Love You.

I've Got Two Daughters Who Will Have To Make Their Way In This Skinny-obsessed World, And It Worries Me, Because I Don't Want Them To Be Empty-headed, Self-obsessed, Emaciated Clones; I'd Rather They Were Independent, Interesting, Idealistic, Kind, Opinionated, Original, Funny – A Thousand Things, Before 'thin'. And Frankly, I'd Rather They Didn't Give A Gust Of Stinking Chihuahua Flatulence Whether The Woman Standing Next To Them Has Fleshier Knees Than They Do. Let My Girls Be Hermiones, Rather Than Pansy Parkinsons. Let Them Never Be Stupid Girls.

I Think That Emotionally, I've Probably Felt A Little Bit More Balanced When I Started Writing Again.