Quotes About P.G. Wodehouse

No burglar wastes his time burgling authors.

I suppose I must be one of the neurotic younger generation you read about in the papers nowadays, because it was pretty plain within half a second that I wasn't strong and I wasn't phlegmatic.

Personally I couldn't manage it. I don't think I ever saw a child who made me feel less sentimental. He was one of those round, bulging kids.

The voice of a donkey braying in the neighbouring meadow seemed like the mocking laughter of demons.

How's the weather, Jeeves?' 'Exceptionally clement, sir.

If I ever breakfasted at half past eight I should walk on the Embankment, trying to end it all in a watery grave.

My attention was drawn to the spots on my chest when I was in the bath, singing, if I remember rightly, the Toreador song from the opera Carmen.

Jeeves—my man, you know—is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him.

six of the juiciest from a cane of the type that biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder, as the fellow said.

there was only one thing to be done. I went straight back to my room, dug out the cummerbund, and draped it round the old tum. I turned round and Jeeves shied like a startled mustang.

She did drive me in the Park the other day. I thought it rather a hopeful

I paused, partly for breath, and partly because I felt I had said enough. I stood there, waiting for her reply, wishing I had a throat lozenge to suck.

I was endeavouring to adjust the faculties, which were in urgent need of a bit of first-aid treatment.

Hands up!' said Mr Cootes with the uncouth curtness of one who has not had the advantages of a refined home and a nice upbringing.

In the spring, Jeeves, a livelier iris gleams upon the burnished dove.' 'So

It went automatically to a heavy-weight mother with beetling eyebrows who looked as if she had just come from doing a spot of knitting at the foot of the guillotine.

Mac had many admirable qualities, but not tact. He was the sort of man who would have tried to cheer Napoleon up by talking about the Winter Sports at Moscow.

I thought it was fine.' 'How sympathetic you are!' cooed George, glutinously, edging a little closer. 'Do you know--' 'Shall

Which one, darling?' 'The one with a face like a fish.' 'But they all have faces like fish, darling.' The child seemed to see the justice of this objection. He became more definite. 'The ugly one!

of the afternoon Mr. Fitz-Wattle----

Constitutionally the laziest young devil in America, he had hit on a walk in life which enabled him to go the limit in that direction. He was a poet.

It is safest for the historian, if he values accuracy, to wait till a thing has happened before writing about it.

What on earth did he do after that? London late at night—or even in the daytime, for that matter—is no place for a man in scarlet tights.

Come in!' cried the voice, rather a pleasant voice; but what is a pleasant voice if the soul be vile?