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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
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
Would
Lamb
Lambs
Strike
Strikes
Normal
State
Known
States
More quotes by P. G. Wodehouse
I shoved on a dressing-gown, and flew downstairs like a mighty, rushing wind.
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It is fatal to let any dog know that he is funny, for he immediately loses his head and starts hamming it up.
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There was a sound in the background like a distant sheep coughing gently on a mountainside. Jeeves sailing into action.
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Well, you know, there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship.
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A man's subconscious self is not the ideal companion. It lurks for the greater part of his life in some dark den of its own, hidden away, and emerges only to taunt and deride and increase the misery of a miserable hour.
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If he had a mind, there was something on it.
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That is life. Just one long succession of misunderstandings and rash acts and what not. Absolutely.
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He enjoys that perfect peace, that peace beyond all understanding, which comes to its maximum only to the man who has given up golf.
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I may as well tell you, here and now, that if you are going about the place thinking things pretty, you will never make a modern poet. Be poignant, man, be poignant!
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Oh, I don't know, you know, don't you know?
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So always look for the silver lining And try to find the sunny side of life.
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This was not Aunt Dahlia, my good and kindly aunt, but my Aunt Agatha, the one who chews broken bottles and kills rats with her teeth.
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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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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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While not exactly disgruntled, he was far from feeling gruntled. He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.
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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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Some minds are like soup in a poor restaurant—better left unstirred.
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But everything is relative, Bertie... You, for instance, are my relative, and I am your relative.
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The spine, and I do not attempt to conceal the fact, had become soluble, in the last degree.
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In a series of events, all of which had been a bit thick, this, in his opinion, achieved the maximum of thickness.
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