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I know I was writing stories when I was five. I don't know what I did before that. Just loafed I suppose.

P. G. Wodehouse

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P. G. Wodehouse
Age: 93 †
Born: 1881
Born: January 1
Died: 1975
Died: January 1
Humorist
Librettist
Lyricist
Novelist
Playwright
Screenwriter
Songwriter
Writer
Guildford
Surrey
UK
Pelham Grenville Wodehouse
Sir Pelham Grenville Wodehouse
P.G. Wodehouse
Suppose
Five
Stories
Writing

More quotes by P. G. Wodehouse

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That is life. Just one long succession of misunderstandings and rash acts and what not. Absolutely.
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Comedy is the kindly contemplation of the incongruous.
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One of the drawbacks to life is that it contains moments when one is compelled to tell the truth.
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As a child of eight Mr. Trout had once kissed a girl of six under the mistletoe at a Christmas party, but there his sex life had come to abrupt halt.
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Confidence, of course is an admirable asset to a golfer, but it should be an unspoken confidence. It is perilous to put it into speech. The gods of golf lie in wait to chasten the presumptious.
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Employers are like horses — they require management.
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There is only one cure for gray hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine.
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I shuddered from stem to stern, as stout barks do when buffeted by the waves.
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I don't know if you know it, J.B., but you're the sort of fellow who causes hundreds to fall under suspicion when he's found stabbed in his library with a paper-knife of Oriental design.
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A lesser moustache, under the impact of that quick, agonised expulsion of breath, would have worked loose at the roots.
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Just another proof, of course, of what I often say - it takes all sorts to make a world.
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I started violently, as if some unseen hand had goosed me.
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Now, I'm a mixer. I can't help it. It's my nature. I like men. I like the taste of their boots, the smell of their legs, and the sound of their voices. It may be weak of me, but a man has only to speak to me, and a sort of thrill goes down my spine and sets my tail wagging.
P. G. Wodehouse
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Luck is a goddess not to be coerced and forcibly wooed by those who seek her favours. From such masterful spirits she turns away. But it happens sometimes that, if we put our hand in hers with the humble trust of a little child, she will have pity on us, and not fail us in our hour of need.
P. G. Wodehouse
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It was a morning when all nature shouted Fore! The breeze, as it blew gently up from the valley, seemed to bring a message of hope and cheer, whispering of chip shots holed and brassies landing squarely on the meat. The fairway, as yet unscarred by the irons of a hundred dubs, smiled greenly up at the azure sky.
P. G. Wodehouse
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A melancholy-looking man, he had the appearance of one who has searched for the leak in life's gas-pipe with a lighted candle.
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...there occurred to me the simple epitaph which, when I am no more, I intend to have inscribed on my tombstone. It was this: He was a man who acted from the best motives. There is one born every minute.
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Well, you certainly are the most wonderfully woolly baa-lamb that ever stepped.
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I should think it extremely improbable that anyone ever wrote for money. Naturally, when he has written something, he wants to get as much for it as he can, but that is a very different thing from writing for money.
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Warm-hearted! I should think he has to wear asbestos vests!
P. G. Wodehouse