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He groaned slightly and winced, like Prometheus watching his vulture dropping in for lunch.
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We do not tell old friends beneath our roof-tree that they are an offence to the eyesight.
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On the cue 'five aunts' I had given at the knees a trifle, for the thought of being confronted with such a solid gaggle of aunts, even if those of another, was an unnerving one. Reminding myself that in this life it is not aunts that matter, but the courage that one brings to them, I pulled myself together.
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As is so often the case with butlers, there was a good deal of Beach. Julius Caesar, who liked to have men about him who were fat, would have taken to him at once. He was a man who had made two chins grow where only one had been before, and his waistcoat swelled like the sail of a racing yacht.
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'Didn't Frankenstein get married?'Did he?' said Eggy. 'I don't know. I never met him. Harrow man, I expect.'
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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I don’t suppose she would recognize a deep, beautiful thought if you handed it to her on a skewer with tartare sauce.
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Ice formed on the butler's upper slopes.
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Aunt Agatha, who eats broken bottles and wears barbed wire next to the skin.
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Directing an austere look at Tubby’s receding back, she spoke in a cold crisp voice which sounded in the drowsy stillness like ice tinkling in a pitcher.
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'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?'
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‘Are you sure?’ I said that sure was just what I wasn’t anything but.
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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.
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Before my eyes he wilted like a wet sock.
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'You can't be a successful Dictator and design women's underclothing.'No, sir.'One or the other. Not both.'Precisely, sir.'
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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.
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Why don't you get a haircut? You look like a chrysanthemum.
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'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. '
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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!’
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Golf, like measles, should be caught young.
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To find a man's true character, play golf with him.