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The spells are made up. I have met people who assure me, very seriously, that they are trying to do them, and I can assure them, just as seriously, that they don’t work.

J. K. Rowling

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J. K. Rowling
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: July 31
Author
Executive Producer
Film Producer
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Yate
Gloucestershire
Joanne Jo Murray
Joanne Kathleen Rowling
JK
JKR
Robert Galbraith
Joanne Rowling
Made
People
Assure
Spells
Seriously
Mets
Trying
Work

More quotes by J. K. Rowling

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Dumbledore was on his feet again, pale as any of the surrounding Inferi, but taller than any too, the fire dancing in his eyes his wand was raised like a torch and from its tip emanated the flames, like a vast lasso, encircling them all with warmth.
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Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help, snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.
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... perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it.
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The silence was unbearable to him. If the pictures could have reflected the feelings inside him, they would have been screaming in pain.
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Read as much as you possibly can. Nothing will help you as much as reading.
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The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter... or at least, most minds are.
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Blimey,” said the other twin. “Are you — ?” “He is,” said the first twin. “Aren’t you?” he added to Harry. “What?” said Harry. “Harry Potter,” chorused the twins. “Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.
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I had a dream about a motorcycle, said Harry, remembering suddenly. It was flying. Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY! Dudley and Piers sniggered. I know they don't, said Harry. It was only a
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Nobody's ever asked me to a party before, as a friend. Is that why you dyed your eyebrow, for the party? Should I do mine too?
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Her grief was so big and wild it terrified her, like an evil beast that had erupted from under the floorboards.
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I'll be writing until I can't write anymore. It's a compulsion with me. I love writing.
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P.S. I enjoy acid pops.
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The idea of a teenage Dumbledore was simply odd, like trying to imagine a stupid Hermione or a friendly Blast-Ended Skrewt.
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Only one thing mattered: this was not a Horcrux. Dumbledore had weakened himself by drinking that horrible potion for nothing. Harry crumpled the parchment in his hand and his eyes burned with tears as behind him Fang began to howl.
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When you were straight, evil thoughts and memories came pouring up out of the darkness inside you buzzing black flies clinging to the insides of your skull.
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I’ll make Goyle do lines, it’ll kill him, he hates writing,” said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle’s low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair. “I... must... not... look... like... a... baboon’s... backside.
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Everythin' seems ter happen ter you, doesn' it?
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I don't believe in magic, either.
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Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough.
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Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely, said Auntie Muriel in a rather carrying whisper. But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low-cut. Ginny glanced round, grinning, winked at Harry, then quickly faced the front again.
J. K. Rowling