Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl free morning. He yelled at five different people.

Aunt Petu­nia of­ten said that Dud­ley looked like a ba­by an­gel — Har­ry of­ten said that Dud­ley looked like a pig in a wig.

We could all have been killed—or worse, expelled.

After all, to the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.

A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you’re very nervous.

Mr Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn’t, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn’t see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at night-time. Mr Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning.

My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford

There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.

Mr Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning.

Neville was snoring loudly, but Harry couldn’t sleep.