This is usually the first idea that comes to mind when we think of Ravenclaws, and it’s probably the one that defines them the most.
They are intelligent, and are also willing to share their knowledge with anyone who needs it or asks for it. Even if you don’t ask for it, they will tell you what they know about any topic you can imagine, which sometimes can make them sound presumptuous or arrogant.
But nothing can be further from reality, because even though they may be proud of what they know, most of them (cough, cough, Gilderoy Lockhart, cough, cough) do not feel superior or better than the rest just for that reason. Though listening to a monologue two hours long about global warming just because you commented that it was uncharacteristically warm that day may be a bit over the top, we get it.
Wisdom is often acquired through study, and that is something Ravenclaws will agree with. The problem is that they don’t always focus on school subjects necessarily, but any topic that seems even remotely interesting.
Ravenclaws are always willing to think outside the box and push the boundaries of every area, which sometimes means they can go on a tangent and lose their original idea in the process. This is the reason why they don’t always win the house cup. If they were as good students as they’re supposed to be there will be no contest, not even if you put quidditch in the mix.
However, all this thirst for knowledge is not always oriented to practical things, which makes them great partners for any trivia game but not necessarily helpful in real life.
If you tell them this, they will answer with some variant of “Knowledge is always positive, you never know when you’re going to need to know everything about [insert terribly boring or absurd topic] in your life.” In that case, just nod and walk away slowly unless you’re willing to debate about the usability of knowledge for three hours straight.