Words Are, In My Not-so-humble Opinion, Our

I Am Prouder Of My Years As A Single Mother Than Of Any Other Part Of My Life.

Words Are, In My Not-so-humble Opinion, Our Most Inexhaustible Source Of Magic. Capable Of Both Inflicting Injury, And Remedying It.

Harry: This Book Belongs To Harry Potter. Ron: Shared By Ron Weasley, Because His Fell Apart. Hermione: Why Don't You Buy A New One Then? Ron: Write On Your Own Book, Hermione. Hermione: You Bought All Those Dungbombs On Saturday. You Could Have Bought A New Book Instead. Ron: Dungbombs Rule.

Kill Me Then,' Panted Harry, Who Felt No Fear At All, But Only Rage And Contempt. 'kill Me Like You Killed Him, You Coward-' Don't-' Screamed Snape, And His Face Was Suddenly Demented, Inhuman, As Though He Was In As Much Pain As The Yelping, Howling Dog Stuck In The House Behind Them- 'call Me A Coward!

Killing Is Not So Easy As The Innocent Believe.