Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Book 7)

Tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, and the pride and the gratitude emanating from him filled Harry with the same balm as phoenix song.

You’ve got to ask it for exactly what you need

‘Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?’

walk calmly into Death’s welcoming arms.

Every second he breathed, the smell of the grass, the cool air on his face, was so precious: to think that people had years and years, time to waste, so much time it dragged, and he was clinging to each second.

Many small villages and hamlets attracted several magical families, who banded together for mutual support and protection.

he could not rest while agitating thoughts whirled through his mind:

Hearing familiar, friendly voices was an extraordinary tonic;

while inside him a kind of quiet eruption sent joy and grief thundering in equal measure through his veins.