The Potters smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.
There is no fire like lust, no sickness like hatred, no sorrow like separateness, no joy like peace.No disease is worse than greed, no suffering worse than selfish passion. Know this, and seek nirvana as the highest joy.
