“Swish and flick.”

“Harry uttered an inarticulate yell of rage: In that instant, he cared not whether he lived or died. Pushing himself to his feet again, he staggered blindly toward Snape, the man he now hated as much as he hated Voldemort himself —“Sectum — !”Snape flicked his wand and the curse was repelled yet again; but Harry was mere feet away now and he could see Snape’s face clearly at last: He was no longer sneering or jeering; the blazing flames showed a face full of rage. Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, Levi —“No, Potter!” [...] Snape’s pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore.“You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them — I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you’d turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don’t think so . . . no!”

“The stories we love best do live in us forever.”

“She was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.“I never thought to look in here!” she whispered excitedly. “I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading.”“Light?” said Ron.”

“It’s so difficult to describe depression to someone who’s never been there, because it’s not sadness. I know sadness. Sadness is to cry and to feel. But it’s that cold absence of feeling— that really hollowed-out feeling.”

“If you don’t like to read, you haven’t found the right book.”

“And it’s Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I’ve been saying it for years but she still won’t go out with me —''JORDAN!' yelled Professor McGonagall.'Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest —”