“Sit down, Will. There’s a good fellow,” he said.“Yes, sir,” replied Will, and Halt’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.“He’s never called me sir,” he said.“Probably trying to get on my good side,” Crowley replied.Halt nodded savagely. “Probably.”

“Five minutes.” He set the alarm. “Ready?” “Yes, sir.” “You’re trying to get me to fuck you by calling me ‘sir,’ aren’t you? It will work. But not yet.”

“How can you protect yourself by carrying a sword if you don’t know how to use it?’Not me, sir. Other people. They see the sword and don’t attack me,’ said Maladict patiently.Yes, but if they did, lad, you wouldn’t be any good with it,’ said the sergeant.No, sir. I’d probably settle for just ripping their heads off, sir. That’s what I mean by protection, sir. Theirs, not mine. And I’d get hell from the League if I did that, sir.”

“Oh, Jeeves,' I said; 'about that check suit.'Yes, sir?'Is it really a frost?'A trifle too bizarre, sir, in my opinion.'But lots of fellows have asked me who my tailor is.'Doubtless in order to avoid him, sir.'He's supposed to be one of the best men in London.'I am saying nothing against his moral character, sir.”

“Do you remember me telling you we are practicing non-verbal spells, Potter?""Yes," said Harry stiffly."Yes, sir.""There's no need to call me "sir" Professor."The words had escaped him before he knew what he was saying.”

“Sir William said he never spoke of 'madness'; he called it not having a sense of proportion.”