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— J. K. Rowling"Get off me,” Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew’s hands off him in disgust. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it because — I don’t reckon my dad would’ve wanted them to become killers — just for you."
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That is disgusting, and I will never kiss you again." "Yes, you will," he said, and proved by pressing his lips to hers. She wanted to squirm away, just to prove the point but God, she loved kissing him.
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That's the trouble with you preachers," he said. "You've all got too good to believe in anything," and he drove off with a look of disgust and righteousness.
— Flannery O'Connor
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