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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.
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You are the smartest children i know. You just don't beleive it.
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What is life without laughter?
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Now listen, we need to be quiet as mice. No, quieter than that. As quiet as...as..." "Dead mice?" Reynie suggested. "Perfect," said Kate with an approving nod. "As quiet as dead mice.
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The gym is always open, except when it's closed.
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Remember, children. For every exit, there is also an entrance. ~ Milligan, The Mysterious Benedict Society
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Reynie's fce fell. 'It's not funny, Kate.' For a moment - a fleeting moment - Kate looked desperately sad. 'Well, of course it's not funny, Reynie Muldoon. But what do you want me to do? Cry?
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Nicholas Benedict did have an exceptional gift for knowing things (more exceptional, in fact, than most adults would have thought possible), and yet not even he could know that this next chapter was to be the most unusual-and most important-of his entire childhood. Indeed, the strange days that lay ahead would change him forever, though for now they had less substance than the mist through which he ran.
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Children are capable of such open rudeness.
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They stared out their window at night enough to know where the darkest shadows lay, and it was to the darkest shadows they kept.
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I've only just arrived, Kate. It may surprise you to learn that you were my top priority.
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You've read half the books in this house? This whole house?" "Well, approximately half." Sticky said. "To be more accurate, I suppose I've read more like" - his eyes went up as he calculated - "three sevenths? Yes, three sevenths." "Only three sevenths?" said Kate, pretending to look disappointed. "And here I was prepared to be impressed.
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One problem with being a leader, is that even among your friends you are alone, for it is you -- and you alone -- to whom the others look for final guidance.
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In other words, you are our last possible hope. You are our only hope.
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May your adventures bring you closer together, even as they take you far away from home.
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And please don't call me that." I didn't call you 'that', I called you George Washington.
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No one seems to realize how much we are driven by FEAR, the essential component of human personality. Everything else - from ambition to love to despair - derives in some way from this single powerful emotion.
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I was always interested in the possibility maybe of finding my way into a big adventure.
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Don't thank me,' Mr. Curtain called as the door slid closed. 'Impress me!
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If we're just trying to be accurate, then how about 'The Doomed to Fail Bunch'?" said Constance. "Honestly! We can't even name ourselves.
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If you like to tell stories and compose sentences, and if you work hard at being good at these things, then you are a writer even if you haven't published anything.
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Everything is as it should be.
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Au contraire..." "What?" Constance demanded. Curtain blinked. ~ The Perilous Journey
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'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