I can't imagine what goes on in that crazy head of hers. I've never known anyone so crazy in my life.
She'd never have survived in Slytherin. But even those "wit-beyond-measure"-touting Ravenclaws don't understand her; she doesn't talk about class. She raves about imaginary creatures and mythical plants and conspiracies that make no sense. She makes no sense.
It's no wonder I got involved with her, really. The only way to shut her up is to fasten your lips onto hers.
We're a secret, of course; I'll have to marry a man. But for now, Luna is sweet. Crazy, but sweet.