“For future reference, Harry, it is raspberry...although of course, if I were a Death Eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam preferences before impersonating myself.”

“Harry, despite your privileged insight into Voldemort’s world (which, incidentally, is a gift any Death Eater would kill to have), you have never been seduced by the Dark Arts, never, even for a second, shown the slightest desire to become one of Voldemort’s followers!”“Of course I haven’t!” said Harry indignantly. “He killed my mum and dad!”“You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!” said Dumbledore loudly.”

“Although I admired scholarship so much in Cleric, I was not deceived about myself; I knew that I should never be a scholar. I could never lose myself for long among impersonal things. Mental excitement was apt to send me with a rush back to my own naked land and the figures scattered upon it. While I was in the very act of yearning toward the new forms that Cleric brought up before me, my mind plunged away from me, and I suddenly found myself thinking of the places and people of my own infinitesimal past.”

“Slave. Minion. Fiend. The others who have come before me have been called such things, but I prefer to think of myself as a disciple; a devout follower of my voluptuous mistress.”

“And they'd [the Death Eaters] love to have me," said Harry sarcastically. "We'd be best pals if they didn't keep trying to do me in.”

“I have, of course, been called many other things. Most of them uncouth, although very few were unearned”