“Yes,” said Cooley. “That is the question, as the Bard might say.” “The Bard?” “What’s so funny?” said Cooley. “Nothing, sir,” I said. “I just didn’t know people still used that term.” “Well, I’m a people, Burke. Am I not?” “Of course.” “If you prick me, do I not bleed, you scat-gobbling, mother-rimming prick?” Occasionally Dean Cooley reverted to a vocabulary more suited to his marine years, but some maintained it was only when he felt threatened, or stretched for time. “Yes, sir,” I said.”

“Who are you?” he said. “And why are you shouting?”“I’m your first officer, sir,” said Slank. “Mr. Slank. I’m just relaying your orders to the crew.”“Ah,” said Pembridge.“The aft binnacle has been cast off, sir,” said Slank.“The what?” said Pembridge.“The aft binnacle,” said Slank. “As you ordered.”“I did?” said Pembridge, squinting suspiciously. “When?”“Just now, sir,” said Slank.Pembridge blinked at Slank.“Who are you, again?” he said.“You first officer, sir,” said Slank.Pembridge blinked again.“My head hurts,” he said.“Perhaps the captain would like to go to his cabin,” said Slank.“You don’t tell me was to do,” said Pembridge. “I’m the captain.”“Yes, sir,” said Slank.“I’m going to my cabin,” said Pembridge.”

“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.”

“Jeeves," I said, "those spats.""Yes, sir?""You really dislike them?""Intensely, sir.""You don't think time might induce you to change your views?""No, sir.""All right, then. Very well. Say no more. You may burn them.""Thank you very much, sir. I have already done so. Before breakfast this morning. A quiet grey is far more suitable, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Are you threatening me, sir?” he said, so loudly that passersby actually turned to stare.“Yes, I am,” said Mad-Eye, who seemed rather pleased that Uncle Vernon had grasped this fact so quickly.“And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?” barked Uncle Vernon.“Well...” said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving magical eye. Uncle Vernon leapt backward in horror and collided painfully with a luggage trolley. “Yes, I’d have to say you do, Dursley.”

“Sir... I... don't want... to... be... here," I said between sobs. There, I'd said it. Now everyone would be happy- Cadet Daily, my mother...Yes, you do, Davis."No, sir... I don't," I gasped.Homesick?"I shook my head from side to side. "No... sir... it's too much... like home.”