Fleur looked around. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were upstairs getting ready. “Please, everyone,” she started. Arthur, Molly, Percy and George glanced up. “Since we are going swimming – you should know that Hermione has some terrible scars. Please don’t bring them up. She probably feels self-conscious enough, no?”
"When you hurt an awful lot, and you're scared of the dark," she murmured, "just look me in the eyes. They'll always be there for you."
"Tell T'Lar: we are a Federation planet! Tell Her treatment of Yanash is in violation of sentient rights and an affront to moral decency!"
"Those sadistic stairs have inflicted worse damage than a good clean knock to the head. They can crush you, body and soul, if they have the mind to do so."
"We are gathered to consider a matter of grave importance. The decision rendered here tonight will affect all of Vulcan."
"At any rate, this is no longer my world. You, at least, go the satisfaction of destroying the dark lord. What matters life and freedom when time and chance for glory have passed by?"
"It is good to hear you speak of logic," Spock interjected wryly. "I thought perhaps you had forgotten how."