Don't Let The Muggles Get

Be Good Now, Potty...weasel King.

He [uncle Vernon] Held Up The Envelope In Which Mrs. Weasley’s Letter Had Come, And Harry Had To Fight Down A Laugh. Every Bit Of It Was Covered In Stamps Except For A Square Inch On The Front, Into Which Mrs. Weasley Had Squeezed The Dursleys’ Address In Minute Writing. “she Did Put Enough Stamps On, Then,” Said Harry, Trying To Sound As Though Mrs. Weasley’s Was A Mistake Anyone Could Make.

Even The Weather Seemed To Be Celebrating; As June Approached, The Days Became Cloudless And Sultry, And All Anybody Felt Like Doing Was Strolling Onto The Grounds And Flopping Down On The Grass With Several Pints Of Iced Pumpkin Juice, Perhaps Playing A Casual Game Of Gobstones Or Watching The Giant Squid Propel Itself Dreamily Across The Surface Of The Lake.

The Difficult Thing, The Glorious Thing, Was To Be Who You Really Were, Even If That Person Was Cruel Or Dangerous, Particularly If Cruel And Dangerous. There Was Courage In Not Distinguishing The Animal You Happened To Be. On The Other Hand, You Had To Avoid Pretending To Be More Of An Animal Than You Were: Take That Path, Start Exaggerating Or Faking And You Became Just Another Cubby, Just As Much Of A Liar, A Hypocrite

I Think The Single Biggest Thing That Money Gave Me-and Obviously I Came From A Place Where I Was A Single Mother And It Really Was Hand To Mouth At One Point. It Was Literally As Poor As You Can Get In Britain Without Being Homeless At One Point. If You've Ever Been There You Will Never, Ever Take For Granted That You Don't Need To Worry. Never.