He looked like a vulture dissatisfied with its breakfast corpse.
He had never measured a footprint in his life, and what he did not know about bloodstains would have filled a library.
Had his brain been constructed of silk, he would have been hard put to it to find sufficient material to make a canary a pair of cami-knickers.
Change of scene is the thing. I head of a man. Girl refused him. Man went abroad. Two months later girl wired him Come back, Muriel. Man started to write out a reply; suddenly found that he couldn't r...
But why do you want me? I mean, what am I? Ask yourself that.I often have.
[T]he success of every novel -- if it's a novel of action -- depends on the high spots. The thing to do is to say to yourself, "What are my big scenes?" and then get every drop of juice out of them.",...
What a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you see what I mean.
Do you mind not intoning the responses, Jeeves? I said. This is a most complicated story for a man with a headache to have to tell, and if you interrupt you'll make me lose the thread. As a favour to...
Bertie, do you read Tennyson?Not if I can help.
It was my Uncle George who discovered alcohol was a food well in advance of modern medical thought.
I did not rush in with the vim I would have displayed a year or so earlier, before Life had made me the grim, suspicious man I am to-day:
From my earliest years I had always wanted to be a writer. It was not that I had any particular message for humanity. I am still plugging away and not the ghost of one so far, so it begins to look as...
Conversationally, I am like a clockwork toy. I have to be set going.
But, Bill, old scout, your sister says there's a most corking links near here.He turned and stared at me, and nearly ran us into the bank.You don't mean honestly she said that?She said you said it was...
I spent the afternoon musing on Life. If you come to think of it, what a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you see what I mean.
Lord Emsworth belonged to the people-like-to-be-left-alone-to-amuse-themselves-when-they-come-to-a-place school of hosts
I never feel really comfortable unless I am either actually writing or have a story going. I could not stop writing.
You remind me of an old cat I once had. Whenever he killed a mouse he would bring it into the drawing-room and lay it affectionately at my feet. I would reject the corpse with horror and turn him out,...
You ask me,’ a thoughtful Crumpet had once said in the smoking-room of the Drones Club, ‘why it is that at the mention of his Uncle Fred’s name Pongo Twistleton blenches to the core and calls for a co...
She has an eye like a man-eating fish