“Many years before, she had read, and recognized as true, the words of W. B. Yeats: 'A Pity beyond all telling is hit at the heart of love'. She had smiled over the poem, and stroked the page, because she had known both that she loved Colin, and that compassion formed a huge part of her love.”

“It was easy to conjure him up this morning, when everything was quiet and still. A little, ginger-bearded man; she had been taller than him by half a head. She had never felt the slightest physical attraction towards him. 'What was love, after all?' thought Parminder, as a gentle breeze ruffled the tall hedge of leyland cypresses that enclosed the Jawandas’ bigback lawn. Was it love when somebody filled a space in your life that yawned inside you, once they had gone?'I did love laughing', thought Parminder. 'I really miss laughing.'And it was the memory of laughter that, at last, made the tears flow from her eyes. They trickled down her nose and into her coffee, where they made little bulletholes, swiftly erased. She was crying because she never seemed to laugh anymore (...).”

“She pressed the plunger down hard, in hope and without regret...Krystal Weedon had achieved her only ambition: she had joined her brother where nobody could part them.”

“You - will - never - touch - our - children - again!' screamed Mrs. Weasley.Bellatrix laughed, the same exhilarated laugh her cousin Sirius had given as he toppled backwards through the veil, and suddenly Harry knew what was going to happen before it did.Molly's curse soared beneath Bellatrix's outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart.Bellatrix's gloating smile froze, her eyes seemed to bulge: for the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, and then she toppled, and the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed.”

“Wordlessly, Kay stroked his arm, reflecting that she had never been able to afford to go to pieces.”

“Then she was kissing him as she had never kissed him before...and it was blissful oblivion, better than firewhisky; she was the only real thing in the world.”

“She picked up the book and then walked back past him into the tent, but as she did so, she brushed the top of his head lightly with her hand. He closed his eyes at her touch, and hated himself for wishing that what she said was true: that Dumbledore had really cared.”