I'm not absolutely certain of the facts, but I rather fancy it's Shakespeare who says that it's always just when a fellow is feeling particularly braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up behind him with the bit of lead piping.
Well, you know, there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship.
You would not enjoy Nietzsche, sir. He is fundamentally unsound.
What's the use of a great city having temptations if fellows don't yield to them?
Employers are like horses — they require management.
It has been well said that an author who expects results from a first novel is in a position similar to that of a man who drops a rose petal down the Grand Canyon of Arizona and listens for the echo.
I couldn't have made a better shot, if I had been one of those detectives who see a chap walking along the street and deduce that he is a retired manufacturer of poppet valves named Robinson with rheumatism in one arm, living at Clapham.
There are moments, Jeeves, when one asks oneself, 'Do trousers matter?'" "The mood will pass, sir.
I mean, imagine how some unfortunate Master Criminal would feel, on coming down to do a murder at the old Grange, if he found that not only was Sherlock Holmes putting in the weekend there, but Hercule Poirot, as well." ~ Bertram "Bertie" Wooster
What George was thinking was that the late king Herod had been unjustly blamed for a policy which had been both statesmanlike and in the interests of the public. He was blaming the mawkish sentimentality of the modern legal system which ranks the evi...
Sober or blotto, this is your motto: keep muddling through.
Squiffy, have you ever felt a sort of strange emptiness in the heart? A sort of aching void of the soul?' 'Oh, rather!' 'What do you do about it?' 'I generally take a couple of cocktails.
Water!' cried Marie. 'Vinegar!' recommended the bell-boy. 'Eu-de-Cologne!' said Bill. 'Pepper!' said Lord Tidmouth. Mary had another suggestion. 'Give her air!' So had the bell-boy. 'Slap her hands!' Lord Tidmouth went further. 'Sit on her head!' he ...
Excuse me, I must go and putt
If you don't want me to attend the patient I'll go.' 'But she can't see a doctor now.' 'Why not?' 'She isn't well.
Suiffy, have you ever felt a sort of strange emptiness in the heart? A sort of aching void of the soul?' 'Oh, rather!' 'What do you do about it?' 'I generally take a couple of cocktails.
It was one of the dullest speeches I ever heard. The Agee woman told us for three quarters of an hour how she came to write her beastly book, when a simple apology was all that was required.
He was a Frenchman, a melancholy-looking man. His aspect was that of one who has been looking for the leak in a gas pipe with a lighted candle.
The snag in this business of falling in love, aged relative, is that the parties of the first part so often get mixed up with the wrong parties of the second part, robbed of their cooler judgement by the party of the second part's glamour. Put it lik...
She was, in short, melted by his distress, as so often happens with the female sex. Poets have frequently commented on this. You are probably familiar with the one who said, "Oh, woman in our hours of ease tum tumty tiddly something please, when some...
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 the baby into the city's reservoir, he turns to the ...
