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I suppose he must have taken about a nine or something in hats. Shows what a rotten thing it is to let your brain develop too much.
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
Thing
Hats
Much
Suppose
Something
Develop
Nine
Brain
Taken
Shows
Must
Rotten
More quotes by P. G. Wodehouse
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.
P. G. Wodehouse
To say that New York came up to its advance billing would be the baldest of understatements. Being there was like being in heaven without going to all the bother and expense of dying.
P. G. Wodehouse
It was one of those cases where you approve the broad, general principle of an idea but can't help being in a bit of a twitter at the prospect of putting it into practical effect. I explained this to Jeeves, and he said much the same thing had bothered Hamlet.
P. G. Wodehouse
Mike nodded. A sombre nod. The nod Napoleon might have given if somebody had met him in 1812 and said, So, you're back from Moscow, eh?
P. G. Wodehouse
It is no use telling me there are bad aunts and good aunts. At the core, they are all alike. Sooner or later, out pops the cloven hoof.
P. G. Wodehouse
Chumps always make the best husbands. All the unhappy marriages come from the husbands having brains.
P. G. Wodehouse
I can detach myself from the world. If there is a better world to detach oneself from than the one functioning at the moment I have yet to hear of it.
P. G. Wodehouse
Sudden success in golf is like the sudden acquisition of wealth. It is apt to unsettle and deteriorate the character.
P. G. Wodehouse
His eyes were rolling in their sockets, and his face had taken on the colour and expression of a devout tomato. I could see he loved like a thousand bricks.
P. G. Wodehouse
She's one of those soppy girls, riddled from head to foot with whimsy. She holds the view that the stars are God's daisy chain, that rabbits are gnomes in attendance on the Fairy Queen, and that every time a fairy blows its wee nose a baby is born, which, as we know, is not the case. She's a drooper.
P. G. Wodehouse
Unlike the male codfish which, suddenly finding itself the parent of three million five hundred thousand little codfish, cheerfully resolves to love them all, the British aristocracy is apt to look with a somewhat jaundiced eye on its younger sons.
P. G. Wodehouse
I don’t know if you have had the same experience, but the snag I always come up against when I’m telling a story is this dashed difficult problem of where to begin it.
P. G. Wodehouse
I never was interested in politics. I'm quite unable to work up any kind of belligerent feeling. Just as I'm about to feel belligerent about some country I meet a decent sort of chap. We go out together and lose any fighting thoughts or feelings.
P. G. Wodehouse
I laughed derisively. For goodness' sake, don't start gargling now. This is serious. I was laughing. Oh, were you? Well, I'm glad to see you taking it in this merry spirit. Derisively, I explained.
P. G. Wodehouse
you ever have that feeling when you step down onto a footstep that isn't there?
P. G. Wodehouse
He groaned slightly and winced like Prometheus watching his vulture dropping in for lunch.
P. G. Wodehouse
A roll and butter and a small coffee seemed the only things on the list that hadn't been specially prepared by the nastier-minded members of the Borgia family for people they had a particular grudge against, so I chose them.
P. G. Wodehouse
At the age of eleven or thereabouts women acquire a poise and an ability to handle difficult situations which a man, if he is lucky, manages to achieve somewhere in the later seventies.
P. G. Wodehouse
the supply of the milk of human kindness was short by several gallons
P. G. Wodehouse
I clutched at the brow. The mice in my interior had now got up an informal dance and were buck-and-winging all over the place like a bunch of Nijinskys.
P. G. Wodehouse
