Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked so easily

Well, we in Ravenclaw think he’s a bit of a joke,” said Luna, unlazed.
“You’ve got a rubbish sense of humour then,” Ron snapped

“My parents are Muggles, mate,” said Dean, shrugging. “They don’t know nothing about no deaths at Hogwarts, because I’m not stupid enough to tell them.”

“Yeah,” said Harry, “but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone.”

“I see them d-d-dead all the time!” Mrs. Weasley moaned into his shoulder. “All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it . . .”

“Of course you can. . . . Well, I’d better get going if I’ve got a broom to buy too. I’ll see you all later. . . . Little Ronnie, a prefect! And don’t forget to pack your trunks. . . . A prefect . . . Oh, I’m all of a dither!”

“What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?”

Harry turned his money bag upside down and emptied not just ten Galleons, but the whole contents into the pool at the statues’ feet.

The lines around Mr. Weasley’s mouth tightened slightly, but other than this he gave no sign that he had noticed his third son.

Dumbledore put his fingertips together again and said no more.