You Are Protected, In Short, By Your

'you All Righ'?' He Said Gruffly. 'yeah,' Said Harry. 'no, Yeh're Not,' Said Hagrid. 'of Course Yeh're Not. But Yeh Will Be.'

I Hope That Even If You Remember Not A Single Word Of Mine, You Remember Those Of Seneca, Another Of Those Old Romans I Met When I Fled Down The Classics Corridor, In Retreat From Career Ladders, In Search Of Ancient Wisdom: As Is A Tale, So Is Life: Not How Long It Is, But How Good It Is, Is What Matters.

Harry Moved The Tip Of His Eagle-feather Quill Down The Page, Frowning As He Looked For Something That Would Help Him Write His Essay, “witch Burning In The Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless — Discuss.

You Look In Excellent Health To Me, Potter, So You Will Excuse Me If I Don't Let You Off Homework Today. I Assure You That If You Do Die, You Need Not Hand It In.

Harry Had The Impression That Even The Barman Was Listening In. He Was Wiping The Same Glass With The Filthy Rag; It Was Becoming Steadily Dirtier.