I Think It’s The Books That You

The Fame Thing Is Interesting Because I Never Wanted To Be Famous, And I Never Dreamt I Would Be Famous.

His Hand Closed Automatically Around The Fake Horcrux But In Spite Of Everything, In Spite Of The Dark And Twisting Path He Saw Stretching Ahead For Himself, In Spite Of The Final Meeting With Voldemort He Knew Must Come Whether In A Month In A Year Or In Ten, He Felt His Heart Lift At The Thought That There Was Still One Last Golden Day Of Peace Left To Enjoy With Ron And Hermione.

He Never Seemed To Grasp The Immense Mutability Of Human Nature, Nor To Appreciate That Behind Every Nondescript Face Lay A Wild And Unique Hinterland Like His Own.

I Had A Dream About A Motorcycle," Said Harry, Remembering Suddenly. "it Was Flying." Uncle Vernon Nearly Crashed Into The Car In Front. He Turned Right Around In His Seat And Yelled At Harry, His Face Like A Gigantic Beet With A Mustache: "motorcycles Don't Fly!" Dudley And Piers Sniggered. "i Know They Don't," Said Harry. "it Was Only A Dream.

First Sign Of Madness, Talking To Your Own Head.