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There's too much of that where-every-prospect-pleases-and-only-man-is-vile stuff buzzing around for my taste.
P. G. Wodehouse -
It just showed once again that half the world doesn’t know how the other three quarters live.
P. G. Wodehouse
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Has anybody ever seen a dramatic critic in the daytime? Of course not. They come out after dark, up to no good.
P. G. Wodehouse -
of a character in 'The Man Who Gave Up Smoking' who is suffering from a hangover ... the noise of the cat stamping about in the passage outside caused him exquisite discomfort.
P. G. Wodehouse -
He wore the unmistakable look of a man about to be present at a row between women, and only a wet cat in a strange backyard bears itself with less jauntiness than a man faced by such a prospect.
P. G. Wodehouse -
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.
P. G. Wodehouse -
He had never acted in his life, and couldn't play the pin in Pinafore.
P. G. Wodehouse -
Dark hair fell in a sweep over his forehead. He looked like a man who would write vers libre, as indeed he did.
P. G. Wodehouse
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Well, why do you want a political career? Have you ever been in the House of Commons and taken a good square look at the inmates? As weird a gaggle of freaks and sub-humans as was ever collected in one spot.
P. G. Wodehouse -
Aunt Agatha is like an elephant-not so much to look at, for in appearance she resembles more a well-bred vulture, but because she never forgets.
P. G. Wodehouse -
Whenever I meet Ukridge’s Aunt Julia I have the same curious illusion of having just committed some particularly unsavoury crime and-what is more-of having done it with swollen hands, enlarged feet, and trousers bagging at the knee on a morning when I had omitted to shave.
P. G. Wodehouse -
For an author Jerry Vail was rather nice-looking, most authors, as is widely known, resembling in appearance the more degraded types of fish, unless they look like birds, when they could pass as vultures and no questions asked.
P. G. Wodehouse -
I shuddered from stem to stern, as stout barks do when buffeted by the waves.
P. G. Wodehouse -
‘Suppose your Aunt Dahlia read in the paper one morning that you were going to be shot at sunrise.’‘I couldn’t be, I’m never up so early.’
P. G. Wodehouse
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I laughed derisively. "For goodness' sake, don't start gargling now. This is serious." "I was laughing." "Oh, were you? Well, I'm glad to see you taking it in this merry spirit." "Derisively," I explained.
P. G. Wodehouse -
At this moment, the laurel bush, which had hitherto not spoken, said 'Psst!'
P. G. Wodehouse -
She had a beaky nose, tight thin lips, and her eye could have been used for splitting logs in the teak forests of Borneo.
P. G. Wodehouse -
I always strive, when I can, to spread sweetness and light. There have been several complaints about it.
P. G. Wodehouse -
I was expecting Pop Bassett to give an impersonation of a bomb falling on an ammunition dump, but he didn’t. Instead, he continued to exhibit that sort of chilly stiffness which you see in magistrates when they’re fining people five quid for boyish peccadilloes.
P. G. Wodehouse -
Mere abuse is no criticism.
P. G. Wodehouse
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Blizzard was of the fine old school of butlers. His appearance suggested that for fifteen years he had not let a day pass without its pint of port. He radiated port and pop-eyed dignity. He had splay feet and three chins, and when he walked his curving waistcoat preceded him like the advance guard of some royal procession.
P. G. Wodehouse -
'Work, the what's-its-name of the thingummy and the thing-um-a-bob of the what d'you-call-it.'
P. G. Wodehouse -
If the prophet Job were to walk into the room at this moment, I could sit swapping hard-luck stories with him till bedtime.'
P. G. Wodehouse -
‘When I say 'mind,'’ said the blood relation, ‘I refer to the quarter-teaspoonful of brain which you might possibly find in her head if you sank an artesian well.’
P. G. Wodehouse