Basically, I have two speeds.... Hostile or smart-aleck. Your choice.
How do you feel, Georgie? whispered Mrs. Weasley. George's fingers groped for the side of his head. Saintlike, he murmured. What's wrong with him? croaked Fred, looking terrified. Is his mind affected? Saintlike, repeated George, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother. You see...I'm HOLEY, Fred, geddit?
What would men be without women? Scarce, sir...mighty scarce.
Don't Panic.
Right now I’m having amnesia and déjà vu at the same time. I think I’ve forgotten this before.
If writers wrote as carelessly as some people talk, then adhasdh asdglaseuyt[bn[ pasdlgkhasdfasdf.
What's this? he demanded, looking from Clary to his companions, as if they might know what she was doing there. It's a girl, Jace said,recovering his composure. Surely you've seen girls before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one.
Investigation? Isabelle laughed. Now we're detectives? Maybe we should all have code names. Good idea, said Jace. I shall be Baron Hotschaft Von Hugenstein.
I’d said it before and meant it: Alive or undead, the love of my life was a badass.
The Guide says there is an art to flying, said Ford, or rather a knack. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.
Mom says it's because she has PMS. Do you even know what that means? I'm not a little kid anymore. It means pissed-at- men syndrome
I suppose I'll have to add the force of gravity to my list of enemies.
Why are they all staring? demanded Albus as he and Rose craned around to look at the other students. Don’t let it worry you, said Ron. It’s me. I’m extremely famous.
Think left and think right and think low and think high. Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!
A clear conscience is the sure sign of a bad memory.
To you, I'm an atheist. To God, I'm the loyal opposition.
You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.
If an optimist had his left arm chewed off by an alligator, he might say in a pleasant and hopeful voice, Well this isn't too bad, I don't have a left arm anymore but at least nobody will ever ask me if I'm left-handed or right-handed, but most of us would say something more along the lines of, Aaaaaa! My arm! My arm!
Hercules,huh? Percy frowned. That guy was like the Starbucks of Ancient Greece. Everywhere you turn--there he is.
Opera is when a guy gets stabbed in the back and, instead of bleeding, he sings.