- Grace Short: Mr Wakefield, these children discovered you were planning to leave. They don't want you to leave. It's as simple as that. They feel, as does the entire school, that Maudlin Street wouldn't be the same without you. They thought of getting up a petition, but decided that wasn't certain to succeed. Besides such an action was considered by them to be soft, not the Maudlin Street way. So, with all the circumstances in their favour, they decided to make sure you would never obtain a post anywhere else, and launched their campaign to that end, with the whole school behind them. You may wish to proceed with punishing these boys. Personally, I would count my years in the profession well spent if they do half as much to make me stay among them.
- Michael Bean: My beautiful, wrecked, piano!
- Edwin Milton: Does that mean you won't be able to finish composing the music for the play?
- Michael Bean: Real composers don't require pianos, it is all in the mind.
- Edwin Milton: Best place for it.
- Michael Bean: Never wanted my music, have you?
- Edwin Milton: Well, Tchaikovsky would have done me, if I'd *had* to have music at all. Personally...
- Michael Bean: Out with it, what's your objection? Come on, let's have all of it, come on let's have it!
- Edwin Milton: All right it's already my Herculian task to coax anything like audability from these children. If, in addition, I have to cope with an orchestra that makes a lullaby sound like the climax to 1812...
- Michael Bean: You can hear a pin drop during that choir passage.
- Edwin Milton: And I'd rather!
- Felicity Wheeler: Are you satisfied with your equipment, Miss Allcock?
- Sarah Allcock: Well, I've had no complaints so far!
- [Grace Short believes that the answer to all problems with children is to cane them]
- Grace Short: There's only one thing to do - WHACK!
- Edwin Milton: Extraordinary theory - you bend a child double in order to get an upright character.
- Grace Short: [upon entering her classroom where all the students are at their desks, and walking around the room] There's been some trouble this morning. There isn't going to be any trouble in *my* classes. The first of you... to talk... or move, out of turn... or in any way disrupt...
- [Miss Short abruptly stops at Atkins' desk]
- Grace Short: Atkins.
- [Atkins stands, and as Miss Short holds out her right hand, Atkins gives her a handshake]
- Grace Short: [in holding out her hand again] What's that?
- John Atkins - Saboteur: Your hand, Miss.
- Grace Short: [raising an eyebrow] Right! What size is it?
- John Atkins - Saboteur: [in a questioning tone] Outsize?
- Grace Short: [after some giggling by another student which is shot down by her glare] Smack size! Do I make myself clear?
- [last lines]
- Entire Student Body: [repeated chanting as Mr. Wakefield emerges from the school into the schoolyard] We want Wakie, We want Wakie, We want Wakie...
- William Wakefield: [looking around at the now totally quiet yard full of students] Have a good holiday... all of you. See you next term.
- [in Mr. Wakefield's pronouncement that he's returning next term, there is an eruption of cheers as he walks out of the yard]
- [first lines]
- William Wakefield: [following a knock on his office door as he is sitting at his desk] Come in.
- Robin Stevens - Saboteur: [upon entering and approaching Mr. Wakfield's desk] Miss Short told me to report, sir.
- William Wakefield: Ah yes, Stevens. Sit down.
- William Wakefield: [upon Stevens nervously sitting down] Now, uh, what's this all about?
- Robin Stevens - Saboteur: Well, sir. I was lockin' about in maths test, and Miss Short said if I went on she'd send me to you, and I went on, and she sent me, and here I am. And so.
- William Wakefield: I see. What do you think I should do about it?
- Robin Stevens - Saboteur: [in a questioning tone] Cane me?
- William Wakefield: And split a perfectly good magazine?
- Robin Stevens - Saboteur: [in a questioning tone] Sir?
- William Wakefield: Remove the padding, Stevens. You're crackling like a pan full of bacon.
- [Stevens stands up and removes the magazine he has stuffed down the back of his trousers in having expected to be caned]