They told me there was nothing out there, nothing to fear. But the night my parents were murdered I caught a glimpse of something. I've looked for it ever since. I went around the world, searched in all the shadows. And there is something out there in the darkness, something terrifying, something that will not stop until it gets revenge. Me.
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Would you dance If I asked you to dance? Would you run And never look back? Would you cry If you saw me crying? And would you save my soul tonight?
Would you tremble If I touched your lips? Would you laugh, Oh please tell me this? Now would you die For the one you love? And hold me in your arms tonight?
"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," interrupted Dumbledore, "that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you."
You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself plainly when you have need of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night.
When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long, and you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong. just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snow, lies the seed that with the sun's love in the spring becomes a rose.
It's another night in hell, another child won't live to tell: "Can you imagine what it's like to starve to death?" And as we sit free and well, another soldier has to yell: "Tell my wife and children, I'm loving them" in his last breath
Love is when you miss him even before he leaves when you could listen to him talk all night and never get tired of hearing his voice when the sound of his name will send chills down your spine and you see his smile the second you close your eyes.
All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity. But the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes to make it possible.
