J. K. Rowling Quotes (displaying: 1 - 30 of 1444 quotes)
You mean the Prophet wo?t print it because Fudge wo?t let them? said Hermione irritably.Rita gave Hermione a long, hard look. Then, leaning forward across the table toward her, she said in a businesslike tone,?All right, Fudge is leaning on the Prophet, but it comes to the same thing. They wo?t print a story that shows Harry in a good light. Nobody wants to read it. I?s against the public mood. This last Azkaban breakout has got people quite worried enough. People just do?t want to believe You-Know-Wh?s back?
You haven’t given me any ink,” he said. “Oh, you won’t need ink,” said Professor Umbridge with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice. Harry placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I must not tell lies. He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Harry’s right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel — yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth. Harry looked around at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile. “Yes?” “Nothing,” said Harry quietly.
Anyway, members of the Inquisitorial Squad do have the power to dock points so, Granger, I'll have five from you for being rude about our new Headmistress. Macmillan, five for contradicting me. Five because I don't like you, Potter. Weasley, your shirt's untucked, so I'll have another five for that. Oh yeah, I forgot, you're a Mudblood, Granger, so ten off for that.
The kitchen door opened and the entire Weasley family, plus Hermione, came inside, all looking very happy, with Mr Weasley walking proudly in their midst dressed in a pair of striped pyjamas covered by a mackintosh."Cured!" he announced brightly to the kitchen at large. "Completely cured!"He and all the other Weasleys froze on the threshold, gazing at the scene in front of them, which was also suspended in mid-action, both Sirius and Snape looking towards the door with their wands pointing into each other's faces and Harry immobile between them, a hand stretched out to each, trying to force them apart."Merlin's beard," said Mr Weasley, the smile sliding off his face, "what's going on here?
One of the many things I learned at the end of that Classics corridor down which I ventured at the age of 18, in search of something I could not then define, was this, written by the Greek author Plutarch: What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality. That is an astonishing statement and yet proven a thousand times every day of our lives. It expresses, in part, our inescapable connection with the outside world, the fact that we touch other peopl?s lives simply by existing.
Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and therefore the fount of all invention aand innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared. Unlike any other creature on this planet, humans can learn and understand, without having experienced. They can think themselves into other people's minds, imagine themselves into other people's places. And many prefer not to exercise their imaginations at all. They choose to remain comfortably within the bounds of their own experience, never troubling to wonder how it would feel to have been born other than they are. They can close their minds and hearts to any suffering that does not touch them personally; they can refuse to know.
Of course we still want to know you!" Harry said, staring at Hagrid."You don't think anything that Skeeter cow - sorry, Professor," he added quickly, looking at Dumbledore."I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said, Harry," said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.
Well, here goes," said Harry, and he raised the little bottle and took a carefully measured gulp."What does it feel like?" whispered Hermione.Harry did not answer for a moment. Then, slowly but surely, an exhilarating sense of infinite opportunity stole through him; he felt as though he could have done anything, anything at all...and getting the memory from Slughorn seemed suddenly not only possible, but positively easy....He got to his feet, smiling, brimming with confidence."Excellent," he said. "Really excellent. Right...I'm going down to Hagrid's.""What?" said Ron and Hermione together, looking aghast. "No, Harry - you've got to go and see Slughorn, remember?" said Hermione."No," said Harry confidently. "I'm going to Hagrid's, I've got a good feeling about going to Hagrid's.""You've got a good feeling about burying a giant spider?" asked Ron, looking stunned."Yeah," said Harry, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag. "I feel like it's the place to be tonight, you know what I mean?" "No," said Ron and Hermione together, both looking positively alarmed now."This is Felix Felicis, I suppose?" said Hermione anxiously, holding up the bottle to the light. "You haven't got another little bottle full - I don't know -""Essence of Insanity?" suggested Ron, as Harry swung his cloak over his shoulders.