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Why Was She Always So Craven, So Apologetic? He Had Always Seen Ruth As Separate, Good And Untainted. As A Child, His Parents Had Appeared To Him As Starkly Black And White, The One Bad And Frightening, The Other Good And Kind. Yet As He Had Grown Older, He Kept Coming Up Hard In His Mind Against Ruth's Willing Blindness, To Her Constant Apologia For His Father, To The Unshakeable Allegiance To Her False Idol.

-J. K. Rowling

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Why Was She Always

J. K. Rowling

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Why Was She Always So Craven, So Apologetic? He Had Always Seen Ruth As Separate, Good And Untainted. As A Child, His Parents Had Appeared To Him As Starkly Black And White, The One Bad And Frightening, The Other Good And Kind. Yet As He Had Grown Older, He Kept Coming Up Hard In His Mind Against Ruth's Willing Blindness, To Her Constant Apologia For His Father, To The Unshakeable Allegiance To Her False Idol.

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Black And White

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No, It Was Honest," Said Harry. "one Of The Only Honest Things You've Said To Me. You Don't Care Whether I Live Or Die, But You Do Care That I Help You Convince Everyone You're Winning The War Against Voldemort.

It Is Not About Striving For Immortality, But About Accepting Mortality.

Ah" Said Dumbledore Gently, "yes I Thought We Might Hit That Little Snag!" "snag?" Said Fudge, His Voice Still Vibrating With Joy. "i See No Snag, Dumbledore!" "well," Said Dumbledore Apologetically, "i'm Afraid I Do." "oh, Really?" "well It's Just That You Seem To Be Labouring Under The Delusion That I Am Going To -- Come Quietly. I Am Afraid I Am Not Going To Come Quietly At All, Cornelius. I Have Absolutely No Intention Of Being Sent To Azkaban. I Could Break Out, Of Course -- But What A Waste Of Time, And Frankly, I Can Think Of A Whole Host Of Things I Would Rather Be Doing.

To The Dark Lord, I Know I Will Be Dead Long Before You Read This But I Want You To Know That It Was I Who Discovered Your Secret. I Have Stolen The Real Horcrux And Intend To Destroy It As Soon As I Can. I Face Death In The Hope That When You Meet Your Match, You Will Be Mortal Once More. R.a.b

The Sky Outside The Window Was Changing Rapidly From Deep, Velvety Blue To Cold, Steely Gray And Then, Slowly, To Pink Shot With Gold.

Personally, I'd Have Welcomed A Dementor Attack. A Deadly Struggle For My Soul Would Have Broken The Monotony Nicely.

I Am Proud Of Having Done What I've Done. Very Proud.

What Do We Want To Be Prefects For?” Said George, Looking Revolted At The Very Idea. “it’d Take All The Fun Out Of Life.

I Felt I Had To Solve Everyone's Problems.

The Hook-nosed Teacher Looked Past Quirrell’s Turban Straight Into Harry’s Eyes — And A Sharp, Hot Pain Shot Across The Scar On Harry’s Forehead.

At Least My Happiness Doesn't Depend On Ron's Goalkeeping Ability.

Order Of The Phoenix

Things Denied, Things Untold, Things Hidden And Disguised.

Krystal Flung Herself Violently Off The Chair, Away From Her Mother. She Was Surprised To Feel Warm Liquid Flowing Down Her Cheeks, And Thought Confusedly Of Blood, But It Was Tears, Only Tears, Clear And Shining On Her Fingertips When She Wiped Them Away.

Are You Trying To Weasel Out Of Showing Us Any Of This Stuff?" Said Zacharias Smith. "here's An Idea," Said Ron Loudly, "why Don't You Shut Your Mouth?" "well, We've All Turned Up To Learn From Him, And Now He's Telling Us He Can't Really Do Any Of It," He Said. "that's Not What He Said," Said Fred Weasley. "would You Like Us To Clean Out Your Ears For You?" Inquired George, Pulling A Long And Lethal-looking Metal Instrument From Inside One Of The Zonko's Bags. "or Any Part Of Your Body, Really, We're Not Fussy Where We Stick This," Said Fred.

Kreacher Said Nothing,” Said The Elf, With A Second Bow To George, Adding In A Clear Undertone, “and There’s Its Twin, Unnatural Little Beasts They Are.

Sport Is A Very Important Subject At School, That's Why I Gave Quidditch Such An Important Place At Hogwarts. I Was Very Bad In Sports, So I Gave Harry A Talent I Would Really Loved To Have. Who Wouldn't Want To Fly?

Hermione Was Screaming Again: The Sound Went Through Harry Like Physical Pain.

Your Hair Is Much Too Long, Ronald, For A Moment I Thought You Were Ginevra.

Often, You Have To Fail As A Writer Before You Write That Bestselling Novel Or Ground-breaking Memoir. If You're Failing As A Writer - Which It Definitely Feels Like When You're Struggling To Write Regularly Or Can't Seem To Earn A Living As A Freelance Writer - Maybe You Need To Take A Long-term Perspective.

He Can Run Faster Than Severus Snape Confronted With Shampoo.

Funny Harry Potter

He Was Tall, Thin, And Very Old, Judging By The Silver Of His Hair And Beard, Which Were Both Long Enough To Tuck Into His Belt. He Was Wearing Long Robes, A Purple Cloak That Swept The Ground, And High-heeled, Buckled Boots. His Blue Eyes Were Light, Bright, And Sparkling Behind Half-moon Spectacles And His Nose Was Very Long And Crooked, As Though It Had Been Broken At Least Twice. This Man's Name Was Albus Dumbledore.

Longbottom, If Brains Were Gold, You'd Be Poorer Than Weasley, And That's Saying Something.

Do Not Pity The Dead, Harry. Pity The Living, And, Above All Those Who Live Without Love.

I Love You, Hermione,” Said Ron, Sinking Back, Rubbing His Eyes Wearily. Hermione Turned Faintly Pink, But Merely Said, “don’t Let Lavender Hear You Saying That.” “i Won’t,” Said Ron Into His Hands. “or Maybe I Will . . . Then She’ll Ditch Me . . .

As The Sun Fell Below The Horizon, Sir Luckless Emerged From The Waters With The Glory Of His Triumph Upon Him, And Flung Himself In His Rusted Armor At The Feet Of Amata, Who Was The Kindest And Most Beautiful Woman He Had Ever Beheld. Flushed With Success, He Begged For Her Hand And Her Heart, And Amata, No Less Delighted, Realized That She Had Found A Man Worthy Of Them.

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