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Amazing, how much more difficult it was to extend his arm twelve inches and touch her hand than it was to snatch a speeding Snitch from midair.

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
Arms
Snitch
Hand
Snatch
Difficult
Speeding
Hands
Extend
Much
Inches
Twelve
Touch
Amazing
Midair

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They had reached Lockhart's classroom...'You could've fried an egg on your face said Ron. 'You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club.' 'Shut up,' snapped Harry. The last thing he needed was for Lockhart to hear the phrase 'Harry Potter fan club.
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What are you doing with all those books anyway? Ron asked. Just trying to decide which ones to take with us, said Hermione. When we're looking for the Horcruxes. Oh, of course, said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. I forgot we'll be hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library.
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I'd always said never say never, because I knew that Warner Brothers wanted to do something with Fantastic Beasts, and I did have kind of a yen to do that.
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Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs.
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I love inventing names, but I also collect unusual names, so that I can look through my notebook and choose one that suits a new character.
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Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher. There was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head!
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Without cunning, there is no innovation. Without ambition, there is no accomplishment.
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And sure enough, in seeking to become superhuman this foolhardy young man renders himself inhuman. The heart that he has locked away slowly shrivels and grows hair, symbolising his own descent to beasthood.
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Harry: This book belongs to Harry Potter. Ron: Shared by Ron Weasley, because his fell apart. Hermione: Why don't you buy a new one then? Ron: Write on your own book, Hermione. Hermione: You bought all those dungbombs on Saturday. You could have bought a new book instead. Ron: Dungbombs rule.
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You seem to be drowning twice, said Hermione. Oh, am I? said Ron peering down at his predictions. I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging Hippogriff.
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I like to get in among a set of people and get to know them very well.
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I loved writing for kids, I loved talking to children about what I'd written, I don't want to leave that behind.
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Go on, have a pasty, said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating their way through all Harry's pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten).
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The castle grounds were gleaming in the sunlight as though freshly painted the cloudless sky smiled at itself in the smoothly sparkling lake, the satin-green lawns rippled occasionally in a gentle breeze: June had arrived.
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I gave my hero a talent I'd love to have. Who wouldn't want to fly?
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Talent and intelligence never yet inoculated anyone against the caprice of the fates.
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Because that's what Hermione does,' said Ron, shrugging. 'When in doubt, go to the library.
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Warrington’s aim’s so pathetic I’d be more worried if he was aiming for the person next to me.
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What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally the whole school knows.
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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.
J. K. Rowling