Quote

She gave me another of those long keen looks, and I could see that she was again asking herself if her favourite nephew wasn't steeped to the tonsils in the juice of the grape.

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
Gave
Steeped
Wasn
Grape
Another
Nephew
Looks
Keen
Long
Grapes
Juice
Favourite
Asking

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There's too much of that where-every-prospect-pleases-and-only-man-is-vile stuff buzzing around for my taste.
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His whole aspect was that of a man who has unexpectedly been struck by lightning.
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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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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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The only thing that prevented a father's love from faltering was the fact that there was in his possession a photograph of himself at the same early age, in which he, too, looked like a homicidal fried egg.
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Few of them were to be trusted within reach of a trowel and a pile of bricks.
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I shuddered from stem to stern, as stout barks do when buffeted by the waves.
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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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As Shakespeare says, if you're going to do a thing you might as well pop right at it and get it over.
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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.
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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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She looked like something that might have occured to Ibsen in one of his less frivolous moments.
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I shoved on a dressing-gown, and flew downstairs like a mighty, rushing wind.
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It's a funny thing about looking for things. If you hunt for a needle in a haystack you don't find it. If you don't give a darn whether you ever see the needle or not it runs into you the first time you lean against the stack.
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He felt like a man who, chasing rainbows, has had one of them suddenly turn and bite him in the leg.
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Mr Howard Saxby, literary agent, was knitting a sock. He knitted a good deal, he would tell you if you asked him, to keep himself from smoking, adding that he also smoked a good deal to keep himself from knitting.
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It is not mere technical skill that makes a man a golfer, it is the golfing soul.
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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.
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Many a man may look respectable, and yet be able to hide at will behind a spiral staircase.
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