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The stationmaster’s whiskers are of a Victorian bushiness and give the impression of having been grown under glass.
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I may as well tell you, here and now, that if you are going about the place thinking things pretty, you will never make a modern poet. Be poignant, man, be poignant!
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...it has been well said that it is precisely these moments when we are feeling that ours is the world and everything that's in it that Fate selects for sneaking up on us with the rock in the stocking.
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You would be miserable if you had to go through life with a human doormat with 'Welcome' written on him. You want some one made of sterner stuff. You want, as it were, a sparring-partner, some one with whom you can quarrel happily with the certain knowledge that he will not curl up in a ball for you to kick, but will be there with the return wallop.
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Cats, as a class, have never completely got over the snootiness caused by the fact that in ancient Egypt they were worshipped as gods. This makes them prone to set themselves up as critics and censors of the frail and erring human beings whose lot they share.
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This is peculiarly an age in which each of us may, if he do but search diligently, find the literature suited to his mental powers.
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She cried in a voice that hit me between the eyebrows and went out at the back of my head.
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It was one of those parties where you cough twice before you speak and then decide not to say it after all.
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Bradbury Fisher shuddered from head to foot, and his legs wobbled like asparagus stalks.
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That's always the way in this world. The chappies you'd like to lend money to won't let you, whereas the chappies you don't want to lend it to will do everything except actually stand you on your head and lift the specie out of your pockets.
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I'm all for rational enjoyment, and so forth, but I think a fellow makes himself conspicuous when he throws soft-boiled eggs at the electric fan
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Chumps always make the best husbands. When you marry, Sally, grab a chump. Tap his head first, and if it rings solid, don't hesitate. All the unhappy marriages come from husbands having brains. What good are brains to a man? They only unsettle him.
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No one so dislikes being punished unjustly as the person who might have been punished justly on scores of previous occasions, if he had only been found out.
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New York is a small place when it comes to the part of it that wakes up just as the rest is going to bed.
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Skiing consists of wearing $3,000 worth of clothes and equipment and driving 200 miles in the snow in order to stand around at a bar and drink.
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I mean, imagine how some unfortunate Master Criminal would feel, on coming down to do a murder at the old Grange, if he found that not only was Sherlock Holmes putting in the weekend there, but Hercule Poirot, as well." ~ Bertram "Bertie" Wooster
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I turned on the pillow with a little moan, and at this juncture Jeeves entered with the vital oolong. I clutched at it like a drowning man at a straw hat.
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The Duke’s moustache was rising and falling like seaweed on an ebb-tide.
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Chumps always make the best husbands. All the unhappy marriages come from the husbands having brains.
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It ought to be a criminal offence for women to dye their hair. Especially red. What the devil do women do that sort of thing for?
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She's one of those soppy girls, riddled from head to foot with whimsy. She holds the view that the stars are God's daisy chain, that rabbits are gnomes in attendance on the Fairy Queen, and that every time a fairy blows its wee nose a baby is born, which, as we know, is not the case. She's a drooper.
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I suppose he must have taken about a nine or something in hats. Shows what a rotten thing it is to let your brain develop too much.
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I don’t know if you have had the same experience, but the snag I always come up against when I’m telling a story is this dashed difficult problem of where to begin it.
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A lesser moustache, under the impact of that quick, agonised expulsion of breath, would have worked loose at the roots.