P. G. Wodehouse Quotes
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And she's got brains enough for two, which is the exact quantity the girl who marries you will need.
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I consider that of all the dashed silly, drivelling ideas I ever heard in my puff this is the most blithering and futile. It won't work. Not a chance.
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The light from the big window fell right on the picture. I took a good look at it. Then I shifted a bit nearer and took another look. Then I went back to where I had been at first, because it hadn't seemed quite so bad from there.
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At the age of eleven or thereabouts women acquire a poise and an ability to handle difficult situations which a man, if he is lucky, manages to achieve somewhere in the later seventies.
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I can't stand Paris. I hate the place. Full of people talking French, which is a thing I bar. It always seems to me so affected.
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Honoria, you see, is one of those robust, dynamic girls with the muscles of a welterweight and a laugh like a squadron of cavalry charging over a tin bridge. A beastly thing to face over the breakfast table. Brainy, moreover.
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'I want to know what the devil you mean by keeping coming into my private apartment, taking up space which I require for other purposes and interrupting me when I am chatting with my personal friends. Really one gets about as much privacy in this house as a strip-tease dancer.'
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I agreed the situation was sticky. Indeed, offhand it was difficult to see how it could have been more glutinous.
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There are three things in the world that he held in the smallest esteem - slugs, poets and caddies with hiccups.
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...smoking is just a habit. 'Tolstoy', she said, mentioning someone I hadn't met, 'says that just as much pleasure can be got from twirling the fingers'. My impulse was to tell her Tolstoy was off his onion, but I choked down the heated words. For all I know, the man might be a bosom pal of hers and she might resent criticism of him, however justified.
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I know I was writing stories when I was five. I don't know what I did before that. Just loafed I suppose.
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...with each new book of mine I have always the feeling that this time I have picked a lemon in the garden of literature.
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I wouldn't have said off-hand that I had a subconscious mind, but I suppose I must without knowing it, and no doubt it was there, sweating away diligently at the old stand, all the while the corporeal Wooster was getting his eight hours.
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Jeeves, you really are a specific dream-rabbit." "Thank you, miss. I am glad to have given satisfaction.
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‘As a sleuth you are poor. You couldn’t detect a bass-drum in a telephone-booth.’
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Even at normal times Aunt Dahlia's map tended a little towards the crushed strawberry. But never had I seen it take on so pronounced a richness as now. She looked like a tomato struggling for self-expression.
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He enjoys that perfect peace, that peace beyond all understanding, which comes to its maximum only to the man who has given up golf.
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Nature, when planning this sterling fellow, shoved in a lot more lower jaw than was absolutely necessary and made the eyes a bit too keen and piercing for one who was neither an Empire builder nor a traffic policeman.
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Lady Glossip: Mr. Wooster, how would you support a wife? Bertie Wooster: Well, I suppose it depends on who's wife it was, a little gentle pressure beneath the elbow while crossing a busy street usually fits the bill.
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I never was interested in politics. I'm quite unable to work up any kind of belligerent feeling. Just as I'm about to feel belligerent about some country I meet a decent sort of chap. We go out together and lose any fighting thoughts or feelings.
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She laughed - a solo effort. Nothing in the prevailing circumstances made me feel like turning it into a duet.
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'She loves this newt-nuzzling blister.'
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One of the Georges - I forget which - once said that a certain number of hours´ sleep each night - I cannot recall at the moment how many - made a man something which for the time being has slipped my memory.
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The exquisite code of politeness of the Woosters prevented me clipping her one on the ear-hole, but I would have given a shilling to be able to do it. There seemed to me something deliberately fat-headed in the way she persisted in missing the gist.