Once in every few publishing seasons there is an Event. For no apparent reason, the great heart of the Public gives a startled jump, and the public's great purse is emptied to secure copies of some no...
Nobody ever wants to do anything except what they are not allowed to do.
Many men in Packy's position would have shrunk from diving in to the rescue, fully clad. Packy was one of them.
It's a hell for the poor, in New York. An iron, grinding city. It frightens you. It's so big and hard and cruel. It takes the fight out of you.
It was one of those jolly, peaceful mornings that make a chappie wish he'd got a soul or something,
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.
It was all Mrs. Waddington could do to refrain from hurling a bust of Edgar Allan Poe at her head.
It sometimes seems to me that in this life we've all got to have trouble sooner or later, and some of us gets it bit by bit, spread out thin, so to speak, and a few of us gets it in a lump—biff!
It seems to be one of Nature’s laws that the most attractive girls should have the least attractive brothers. Fillmore Nicholas had not worn well. At the age of seven he had been an extraordinarily be...
In the spring, Jeeves, a livelier iris gleams upon the burnished dove.’ ‘So
I've been through a bad time, Bertie, these last weeks. The sun ceased to shine - That's curious. We've had gorgeous weather in London.The birds ceased to sing.What birds?What the devil does it matter...
I was back at the flat so quick that I nearly met myself coming out.
I remember when I was a kid at school having to learn a poem of sorts about a fellow named Pig-something—a sculptor he would have been, no doubt—who made a statue of a girl, and what should happen one...
I really preferred to walk. I have only just landed in England from New York, and it's quite a treat to walk on an English country road again.
I mean, if you fool about too long at the start, trying to establish atmosphere, as they call it, and all that sort of rot, you fail to grip and the customers walk out on you.
I had one of those ideas I do sometimes get, though admittedly a chump of the premier class.
I felt as if I had stepped on the place where the last stair ought to have been, but wasn’t.
I don't know why it is, but women who have anything to do with Opera, even if they're only studying for it, always appear to run to surplus poundage.
I can conceive that after what occurred in New York it might be distressing for you to encounter Miss Stoker, sir. But I fancy the contingency need scarcely arise.’ I weighed this. ‘When you start tal...
I call it rotten work, springing unexpected offspring on a fellow at the eleventh hour like this.