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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
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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
Dance
Buck
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Brow
Like
Brows
Interior
Bucks
Interiors
Winging
Mice
Clutched
Bunch
Informal
More quotes by P. G. Wodehouse
In all crises of human affairs there are two broad courses open to a man. He can stay where he is or he can go elsewhere.
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Sudden success in golf is like the sudden acquisition of wealth. It is apt to unsettle and deteriorate the character.
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A little bit added to what you've already got gives you a little bit more.
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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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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.
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One of the Georges - I forget which - once said that a certain number of hours´ sleep each night - I cannot recall at the moment how many - made a man something which for the time being has slipped my memory.
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It was one of those parties where you cough twice before you speak and then decide not to say it after all.
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Some minds are like soup in a poor restaurant—better left unstirred.
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My motto is 'Love and let love' - with the one stipulation that people who love in glass-houses should breathe on the windows.
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I turned on the pillow with a little moan, and at this juncture Jeeves entered with the vital oolong. I clutched at it like a drowning man at a straw hat.
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Slice him where you like, a hellhound is always a hellhound.
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Well, there it is. That's Jeeves. Where others merely smite the brow and clutch the hair, he acts. Napoleon was the same.
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Everything in life that’s any fun, as somebody wisely observed, is either immoral, illegal or fattening.
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The least thing upset him on the links. He missed short putts because of the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadows.
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The exquisite code of politeness of the Woosters prevented me clipping her one on the ear-hole, but I would have given a shilling to be able to do it. There seemed to me something deliberately fat-headed in the way she persisted in missing the gist.
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I'm bound to say that New York's a topping place to be exiled in. Everybody was awfully good to me, and there seemed to be plenty of things going on, and I'm a wealthy bird, so everything was fine.
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I started violently, as if some unseen hand had goosed me.
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Memories are like mulligatawny soup in a cheap restaurant. It is wiser not to stir them.
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Sober or blotto, this is your motto: keep muddling through.
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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.
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