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There are moments, Jeeves, when one asks oneself, 'Do trousers matter?' The mood will pass, sir.
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
Pass
Oneself
Asks
Moments
Matter
Trousers
Mood
Appearance
More quotes by P. G. Wodehouse
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.
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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?
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You agreee with me that the situation is a lulu? Certainly, a somewhat sharp crisis in your affairs would appear to have been precipitated, Sir.
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From my earliest years I had always wanted to be a writer. It was not that I had any particular message for humanity. I am still plugging away and not the ghost of one so far, so it begins to look as though, unless I suddenly hit mid-season form in my eighties, humanity will remain a message short.
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Some minds are like soup in a poor restaurant—better left unstirred.
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Why don't you get a haircut? You look like a chrysanthemum.
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You know how it is with some girls. They seem to take the stuffing right out of you. I mean to say, there is something about their personality that paralyses the vocal cords and reduces the contents of the brain to cauliflower.
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Well, you certainly are the most wonderfully woolly baa-lamb that ever stepped.
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She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing arm-chairs tight about the hips that season
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It is the glorious uncertainty of golf that makes it the game it is.
P. G. Wodehouse
Sober or blotto, this is your motto: keep muddling through.
P. G. Wodehouse
She looked like something that might have occured to Ibsen in one of his less frivolous moments.
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In his normal state he would not strike a lamb. I’ve known him to do it’ ‘Do what?’ ‘Not strike lambs
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An apple a day, if well aimed, keeps the doctor away.
P. G. Wodehouse
I shoved on a dressing-gown, and flew downstairs like a mighty, rushing wind.
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This is peculiarly an age in which each of us may, if he do but search diligently, find the literature suited to his mental powers.
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It was one of those days you sometimes get latish in the autumn when the sun beams, the birds toot, and there is a bracing tang in the air that sends the blood beetling briskly through the veins.
P. G. Wodehouse
As a dancer, I out-Fred the nimblest Astaire.
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.
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A girl who bonnets a policeman with an ashcan full of bottles is obviously good wife-and-mother timber.
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