It isn't often that Aunt Dahlia lets her angry passions rise, but when she does, strong men climb trees and pull them up after them.
-'What do ties matter, Jeeves, at a time like this?'There is no time, sir, at which ties do not matter
He keeps looking at me so oddly.Oddly? How? Give me an imitation.
What I'm worrying about is what Tom is going to say when he starts talking.
Gussie, a glutton for punishment, stared at himself in the mirror.
Man's inability to get out of bed in the morning is a curious thing. One may reason with oneself clearly and forcibly without the slightest effect. One knows that delay means inconvenience. Perhaps it...
The awful part of the writing game is that you can never be sure the stuff is any good.
She came leaping towards me, like Lady Macbeth coming to get first-hand news from the guest-room.
Red hair, sir, in my opinion, is dangerous.
I flung open the door. I got a momentary flash of about a hundred and fifteen cats of all sizes and colours scrapping in the middle of the room, and then they all shot past me with a rush and out of t...
One of the Georges," said Psmith, "I forget which, once said that a certain number of hours' sleep a day--I cannot recall for the moment how many--made a man something, which for the time being has sl...
The voice of a donkey braying in the neighbouring meadow seemed like the mocking laughter of demons.
Morning, Bill,' said Lord Tidmouth agreeably.'Go to hell!' said Bill.'Right-ho,' said his lordship.
This is peculiarly an age in which each of us may, if he do but search diligently, find the literature suited to his mental powers.
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.
Morning, Bill,' said Lord Tidmouth agreeably.
There are situations in life which are beyond one. The sensible man realizes this, and slides out of such situations, admitting himself beaten. Others try to grapple with them, but it never does any g...
Sober or blotto, this is your motto: keep muddling through.
Freddie experienced the sort of abysmal soul-sadness which afflicts one of Tolstoy's Russian peasants when, after putting in a heavy day's work strangling his father, beating his wife, and dropping th...
I am strongly of the opinion that, after the age of twenty-one, a man ought not to be out of bed and awake at four in the morning. The hour breeds thought. At twenty-one, life being all future, it may...