Newt Scamander: I'm scared, Professor Dumbledore.
Albus Dumbledore: Everyone is scared of something.
Albus Dumbledore: Well done, Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account. And I have a few last-minute points to award. To Miss Hermione Granger, for the cool use of intellect... while others were in grave peril... 50 points. Second, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen these many years, 50 points. And third... to Mr. Harry Potter... for pure nerve and outstanding courage... I award Gryffindor house 60 points. Finally, it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies... but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award 10 points... to Neville Longbottom. Assuming that my calculations are correct I believe... that a change of decoration is in order. Gryffindor wins the house cup.
Albus Dumbledore: Harry, do you know why... Professor Quirrell couldn't bear to have you touch him? It was because of your mother. She sacrificed herself for you. And that kind of act leaves a mark. (Harry touches his scar) No, this kind of mark cannot be seen. It lives in your very skin.
Harry Potter: What is it?
Albus Dumbledore: Love, Harry. Love.
Albus Dumbledore (to Harry): What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret. So, naturally, the whole school knows.
Minerva McGonagall: Albus, do you really think it's safe, leaving him with these people? I've watched them all day. They're the worst sort of Muggles, imaginable. They really are...
Albus Dumbledore: The only family he has.
Minerva McGonagall: This boy will be famous. There won't be a child in our world who doesn't know his name.
Albus Dumbledore: Exactly. He's far better off growing up away from all of that. Until he's ready.
Minerva McGonagall: Do you think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?
Albus Dumbledore: Ah, Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life.
Albus Dumbledore: Those that we love never truly leave us, Harry. There are things that death cannot touch. Paint . . . and memory . . . and love.