“Someone's dead," said Malfoy, and his voice seemed to go up an octave as he said it. "One of your people...I don't know who, it was dark...I stepped over the body...I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way.”

“I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way...”“Yes, they do that,” said Dumbledore.”

“Are you crazy?" I said."Crazy about you.""Patch!""Don't worry, we've got time.""How do you know?"He staggered back a step, with his hand over his heart. "Your lack of faith hurts.”

“I lived here my whole life and I've never been to this neighborhood.' And Big Mike finally spoke up. 'Don't worry,' he said. 'I got your back.”

“I wonder what I’m going to be when I grow up,’ Rob asked himself.‘Well, not a film star,’ Mike said. ‘And not an all-in wrestler. Why don’t you be a drunk? You don’t need any talents for that.’‘It’s got to be something in your blood,’ Rob said. It was his view that all history was a matter of blood.‘That’s a lot of bullshit,’ Mike said. ‘Hell, Australia was built by people who didn’t know who their grandparents were. You can be anything you want to be, and you ought to be what you want to be, not what your grandpa was.’‘Well, what are you going to be?’ Rob demanded… ‘A drunk,’ said Mike. ‘I haven’t got any talents.”

“Pa said, "Won't you say a few words? Ain't none of our folks ever been buried without a few words." Connie led Rose of Sharon to the graveside, she reluctant. "You got to," Connie said. "It ain't decent not to. It'll jus' be a little. The firelight fell on the grouped people, showing their faces and their eyes, dwindling on their dark clothes.All the hats were off now. The light danced, jerking over the people. Casy said, It'll be a short one." He bowed his head, and the others followed his lead. Casy said solemnly, "This here ol' man jus' lived a life an' just died out of it. I don't know whether he was good or bad, but that don't matter much. He was alive, an' that's what matters. An' now his dead, an' that don't matter. Heard a fella tell a poem one time, an' he says 'All that lives is holy.' Got to thinkin', an' purty soon it means more than the words says. An' I woundn' pray for a ol' fella that's dead. He's awright. He got a job to do, but it's all laid out for'im an' there's on'y one way to do it. But us, we got a job to do, an' they's a thousan' ways, an' we don' know which one to take. An' if I was to pray, it'd be for the folks that don' know which way to turn. Grampa here, he got the easy straight. An' now cover 'im up and let'im get to his work." He raised his head.”