P. G. Wodehouse Quotes
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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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They were real golfers, for real golf is a thing of the spirit, not of mere mechanical excellence of stroke.
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A girl who bonnets a policeman with an ashcan full of bottles is obviously good wife-and-mother timber.
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A lesser moustache, under the impact of that quick, agonised expulsion of breath, would have worked loose at the roots.
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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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[He] saw that a peculiar expression had come into his nephew's face; an expression a little like that of a young hindu fakir who having settled himself on his first bed of spikes is beginning to wish that he had chosen one of the easier religions.
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In his normal state he would not strike a lamb. I’ve known him to do it’ ‘Do what?’ ‘Not strike lambs
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I don't want to seem always to be criticizing your methods of voice production, Jeeves, I said, but I must inform you that that 'Well, sir' of yours is in many respects fully as unpleasant as your 'Indeed, sir?
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My motto is 'Love and let love' - with the one stipulation that people who love in glass-houses should breathe on the windows.
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Back horses or go down to Throgmorton Street and try to take it away from the Rothschilds, and I will applaud you as a shrewd and cautious financier. But to bet at golf is pure gambling.
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We Woosters do not lightly forget. At least, we do - some things - appointments, and people's birthdays, and letters to post, and all that - but not an absolutely bally insult like the above.
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Say what you will, there is something fine about our old aristocracy. I'll bet Trotsky couldn't hit a moving secretary with an egg on a dark night.
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She looked away. Her attitude seemed to suggest that she had finished with him, and would be obliged if somebody would come and sweep him up.
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It was one of the most disgusting spectacles I've ever seen-- this white-haired old man, who should have been thinking of the hereafter, standing there lying like an actor.
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When it comes to letting the world in on the secrets of his heart, he has about as much shrinking reticence as a steam calliope.
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I remember her telling me once that rabbits were the gnomes in attendance to the Fairy Queen and that the stars were God's daisy chain. Perfect rot, of course.
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I go in for what is known in the trade as 'light writing' and those who do that - humorists they are sometimes called - are looked down upon by the intelligentsia and sneered at.
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Men capable of governing empires fail to control a small white ball, which presents no difficulties whetever to others with one ounce more brain than a cuckoo clock. I wish to goodness I knew the man who invented this infernal game. I'd strangle him. But I suppose he's been dead for ages. Still, I could go and jump on his grave.
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You agreee with me that the situation is a lulu? Certainly, a somewhat sharp crisis in your affairs would appear to have been precipitated, Sir.
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It was one of those cases where you approve the broad, general principle of an idea but can't help being in a bit of a twitter at the prospect of putting it into practical effect. I explained this to Jeeves, and he said much the same thing had bothered Hamlet.
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If you could call the thing a horse. If it hadn't shown a flash of speed in the straight, it would have got mixed up with the next race.
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One of the rummy things about Jeeves is that, unless you watch like a hawk, you very seldom see him come into a room.
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There was the man who seemed to be attempting to decieve his ball and lull it into a false sense of security by looking away from it and then making a lightning slash in the apparent hope of catching it off its guard.
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I was in rare fettle and the heart had touched a new high. I don't know anything that braces one up like finding you haven't got to get married after all.