“You are omniscient as ever, Dumbledore.""Oh, no, merely friendly with the local barmen.”

“Oh, there you are, Albus,' he said. 'You've been a very long time. Upset stomach?''No, I was merely reading the Muggle magazines,' said Dumbledore. 'I do love knitting patterns.”

“So,” sneered Fudge, recovering himself, “you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?”“Merlin’s beard, no,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to.”“He will not be single-handed!” said Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes.“Oh yes he will, Minerva!” said Dumbledore sharply. “Hogwarts needs you!”

“But you're dead,' said Harry.'Oh, yes,' said Dumbledore matter-of-factly.'Then... am I dead too?''Ah,' said Dumbledore, smiling still more broadly. 'That is the question, isn't it? On the whole, dear boy, I think not.”

“The idea of a teenage Dumbledore was simply odd, like trying to imagine a stupid Hermione or a friendly Blast-Ended Skrewt.”

“The stars that sparkled, and the cars that parkled, and the bars, and the barmen, were presently taken over by her”