"Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives - he didn't belong to the library, so he'd never even gotten rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake: Mr. H. Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey." ~ JK Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone