-
A young man with dark circles under his eyes was propping himself up against a penny-in-the-slot machine. An undertaker, passing at that moment, would have looked at this young man sharply, scenting business. So would a buzzard.
P. G. Wodehouse -
A slight throbbing about the temples told me that this discussion had reached saturation point.
P. G. Wodehouse
-
A roll and butter and a small coffee seemed the only things on the list that hadn't been specially prepared by the nastier-minded members of the Borgia family for people they had a particular grudge against, so I chose them.
P. G. Wodehouse -
When I was a child, I used to think that rabbits were gnomes, and that if I held my breath and stayed quite still, I should see the fairy queen.'. Indicating with a reserved gesture that this was just the sort of loony thing I should have expected her to think as a child, I returned to the point.
P. G. Wodehouse -
I don’t suppose she would recognize a deep, beautiful thought if you handed it to her on a skewer with tartare sauce.
P. G. Wodehouse -
'Didn't Frankenstein get married?'Did he?' said Eggy. 'I don't know. I never met him. Harrow man, I expect.'
P. G. Wodehouse -
No novelists any good except me. Sovietski -- yah! Nastikoff -- bah! I spit me of zem all. No novelists anywhere any good except me. P. G. Wodehouse and Tolstoi not bad. Not good, but not bad. No novelists any good except me.
P. G. Wodehouse -
My Aunt Dahlia has a carrying voice... If all other sources of income failed, she could make a good living calling the cattle home across the Sands of Dee.
P. G. Wodehouse
-
'Jeeves,' I said, and I am free to admit that in my emotion I bleated like a lamb drawing itself to the attention of the parent sheep, 'what the dickens is all this?'
P. G. Wodehouse -
It was one of those cold, clammy, accusing sort of eyes-the kind that makes you reach up to see if your tie is straight: and he looked at me as I were some sort of unnecessary product which Cuthbert the Cat had brought in after a ramble among the local ash-cans.
P. G. Wodehouse -
'You can't be a successful Dictator and design women's underclothing.'No, sir.'One or the other. Not both.'Precisely, sir.'
P. G. Wodehouse -
She gave me another of those long keen looks, and I could see that she was again asking herself if her favourite nephew wasn't steeped to the tonsils in the juice of the grape.
P. G. Wodehouse -
‘Are you sure?’ I said that sure was just what I wasn’t anything but.
P. G. Wodehouse -
Like so many substantial citizens of America, he had married young and kept on marrying, springing from blonde to blonde like the chamois of the Alps leaping from crag to crag.
P. G. Wodehouse
-
'And, anyway, no matter how much you may behave like the deaf adder of Scripture which, as you are doubtless aware, the more one piped, the less it danced, or words to that effect, I shall carry on as planned. '
P. G. Wodehouse -
Ice formed on the butler's upper slopes.
P. G. Wodehouse -
Success comes to a writer as a rule, so gradually that it is always something of a shock to him to look back and realize the heights to which he has climbed.
P. G. Wodehouse -
Why don't you get a haircut? You look like a chrysanthemum.
P. G. Wodehouse -
Golf, like measles, should be caught young.
P. G. Wodehouse -
To find a man's true character, play golf with him.
P. G. Wodehouse
-
He then gave a hideous laugh and added that, if anybody was interested in his plans, he was going to join the Foreign Legion, that cohort of the damned in which broken men may toil and die and dying, forget. ‘Beau Widgeon?’ said the Egg, impressed. ‘What ho!’
P. G. Wodehouse -
‘Alf Todd,’ said Ukridge, soaring to an impressive burst of imagery, ‘has about as much chance as a one-armed blind man in a dark room trying to shove a pound of melted butter into a wild-cat’s ear with a red-hot needle.’
P. G. Wodehouse -
’You must remember, Father,’ said Mavis, in a voice which would have had an Eskimo slapping his ribs and calling for the steam-heat, ‘that this girl was probably very pretty. So many of these New York girls are. That would, of course, explain Frederick's behaviour.’
P. G. Wodehouse -
Breakfast had been prepared by the kitchen maid, an indifferent performer who had used the scorched earth policy on the bacon again.
P. G. Wodehouse