Time Is Galleons, Little Brother.

You Don't Have Sex Near Unicorns. It's An Ironclad Rule. It's Tacky.

It Is One Of The Most Hauntingly Beautiful Places In The World, The History Is Fascinating, The Men Are Handsome And The Whisky Is Delicious. But Don't Eat The Macaroni Pies.

What's That?" He Snarled, Staring At The Envelope Harry Was Still Clutching In His Hand. "if It's Another Form For Me To Sign, You've Got Another -" "it's Not," Said Harry Cheerfully. "it's A Letter From My Godfather." "godfather?" Sputtered Uncle Vernon. "you Haven't Got A Godfather!" "yes, I Have," Said Harry Brightly. "he Was My Mum And Dad's Best Friend. He's A Convicted Murderer, But He's Broken Out Of Wizard Prison And He's On The Run. He Likes To Keep In Touch With Me, Though...keep Up With My News...check If I'm Happy.

Killing Rips The Soul Apart.

Hermione: You! You Foul, Loathsome, Evil Little Cocroach! Ron: Hermione, No! He's No Worth It.