Quotes About Friendship

Gussie and I, as I say, had rather lost touch, but all the same I was exercised about the poor fish, as I am about all my pals, close or distant, who find themselves treading upon Life's banana skins.

That's always the way in this world. The chappies you'd like to lend money to won't let you, whereas the chappies you don't want to lend it to will do everything except actually stand you on your head and lift the specie out of your pockets.

There is enough sadness in life without having fellows like Gussie Fink-Nottle going about in sea boots.

Hear that, Eustace? He wishes we were staying a good long time. I expect it will seem a good long time, said Eustace, philosophically.

Would you say my head was like a pumpkin, Wooster?' 'Not a bit, old man.' 'Not like a pumpkin?' 'No, not like a pumpkin. A touch of the dome of St Paul's, perhaps.

It can't be done, old thing. Sorry, but it's out of the question. I couldn't go through all that again. Not for me? Not for a dozen more like you. I never thought, said Bingo sorrowfully, to hear those words from Bertie Wooster! Well, you've heard them now, I said. Paste them in your hat. Bertie, we were at school together. It wasn't my fault. We've been pals for fifteen years. I know. It's going to take me the rest of my life to live it down.

Reflect, old man! We have been pals for years. Your mother likes me. No, she doesn't. Well, anyway, we were at school together and you owe me a tenner. Oh, well, he said in a resigned sort of voice.

What you want, I said, is to look out for a chance and save her from drowning. I can't swim. That was Freddie Bullivant all over. A dear old chap in a thousand ways, but no help to a fellow, if you know what I mean.

It seems to me that you and I were made for each other. I am your best friend's best friend and we both have a taste for stealing other people's jewellery.

A hoarse shout from within and a small china ornament whizzing past my head informed me that my old friend was at home.

He was rigidly truthful, where the issue concerned only himself. Where it was a case of saving a friend, he was prepared to act in a manner reminiscent of an American expert witness.

Now look here, old friend, I said. I know your bally heart is broken and all that, and at some future time I shall be delighted to hear all about it, but - I didn't come to talk about that. No? Good egg! The past, said young Bingo, is dead. Let us say no more about it. Right-o! I have been wounded to the very depths of my soul, but don't speak about it. I won't. Ignore it. Forget it. Absolutely! I hadn't seen him so dashed reasonable for days.

Too often on such occasions one feels, as I feel so strongly with regard to poor old Stilton, that the kindly thing to do would be to seize the prospective bridegroom's trousers in one's teeth and draw him back from danger, as faithful dogs do to their masters on the edge of precipices on dark nights.' 'Yes

I may be wronging her, but I have an idea that she's the sort of girl who would want a fellow to carve out a career and what not. I know I've heard her speak favourably of Napoleon. So what with one thing and another the jolly old frenzy sort of petered out, and now we're just pals. I think she's a topper, and she thinks me next door to a looney, so everything's nice and matey.

I knew a chap who bumped his leg, and it turned black and had to be cut off at the knee.' 'You do seem to mix with the most extraordinary people.

Fond as he was of Pongo, Lord Ickenham could not see him as a breaker of hearts. Yet it appeared plain that his loss had left a large gap in this girl's life.

She was a kind-hearted girl, and it irked her to have to be continually acting as a black frost in Freddie's garden of dreams.

There, my boy, he said. It's awfully kind of you, Mr. Windlebird. My dear boy, don't mention it. If you're satisfied, I'm sure I am. Mr. Windlebird always spoke the truth when he could. He spoke it now.

I felt like Doctor Watson hearing Sherlock Holmes talking about the one hundred and forty-seven varieties of tobacco ash and the time it takes parsley to settle in the butter dish.

Jeeves,' I said - and I am not ashamed to confess that there was a spot of chokiness in the voice - 'there is none like you, none.

I'm not much of a ladies' man, but on this particular morning it seemed to me that what I really wanted was some charming girl to buzz up and ask me to save her from assassins or something. So that it was a bit of an anti-climax when I merely ran into young Bingo Little, looking perfectly foul in a crimson satin tie decorated with horseshoes.

I say, Bertie, he said, after a pause of about an hour and a quarter. Hallo! Do you like the name Mabel? No. No? No. You don't think there's a kind of music in the word, like the wind rustling gently through the tree-tops? No. He seemed disappointed for a moment; then cheered up. Of course, you wouldn't. You always were a fat-headed worm without any soul, weren't you? Just as you say. Who is she? Tell me all.

Between camaraderie and love there is a broad gulf.

Bertie, old man, said young Bingo earnestly, for the last two weeks I've been comforting the sick to such an extent that, if I had a brother and you brought him to me on a sick-bed at this moment, by Jove, old man, I'd heave a brick at him.