“Oh dear,"cried Rhonda just then, for Mr. Benedict, awash in strong emotion, has gone to sleep.with a sudden loud snore he toppled forward into the attentive arms of Rhonda and Number Two, who eased him to the floor."What's wrong with him?" Constance asked."He has narcolepsy," said Kate."He steals a lot?""That's kleptomania," Sticky said. "Mr. Benedict sleeps a lot.”

“Mr. Bridgerton?" she asked softly. "Mr. Bridgerton!" Benedict's head jerked up violently."What? What?""You fell asleep."He blinked confusedly. "Is there a reason that's bad?""You can't fall asleep in your clothing.”

“The voice belonged to Mr. Pzyrbovich, an algebra teacher who was always called Mr. P, for obvious reasons. He has a heavy accent, which a lot of kids said made him hard to understand, although to be fair some of these kids would have never understood algebra anyway.”

“Now me,” said Mr. Vandemar.“What number am I thinking of?” “I beg your pardon?” “What number am I thinking of?” repeated Mr. Vandemar. “It’s between one and a lot,” he added, helpfully.”

“ 'Is that really the best you can say? An average-looking boy? An awful lot of boys are average-looking, S.Q.!' And poor S.Q., he just kept arguing that 'this boy was especially average-looking.' " ~ Kate Wetherall, The Mysterious Benedict Society”

“The King emerged from the library, paperwork in hand, eyebrows furrowed."Well, what is it, what is it?" he said crossly. "Can you not let me work for five minutes at a time?"The girls burst into angry cries. Kale let out another piercing shriek."Him-him-him-" said Delphinium, pointing a shaking finger at Mr. Hyette, who laughed still. "He-he-him!""He-he-he was spying on us!""And we weren't even wearing our boots!""Or even our stockings!"Thunpfwhap. The King threw Mr. Hyette up against the paneling. My Hyette's head slammed against the wainscot.Kale stopped midscream, hiccupped, and giggled."Mr. Hyeete!" said the King.Mr. Hyette struggled against the King's steel grip."Ow," he said. "I say, ow!"The King yanked Mr. Hyette from the wall and grabbed him by the scruff of his fluffy cravat. He handled Mr. Hyette out the entrance hall doors, slamming them behind him. Outside, gravel scuffled."I say," said Bramble, in an impeccable impersonation of Mr. Hyette. "I say, I say! I say-this Royal Business could actually be quite a lot of fun!”