Quote

It was a nasty look. It made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended to bury later on, when he had time.

P. G. Wodehouse

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

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
Time
Dog
Later
Look
Looks
Feel
Bury
Feels
Nasty
Made
Intended
Something
Brought

More quotes by P. G. Wodehouse

Image
No novelists any good except me. Sovietski -- yah! Nastikoff -- bah! I spit me of zem all. No novelists anywhere any good except me. P. G. Wodehouse and Tolstoi not bad. Not good, but not bad. No novelists any good except me.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
the supply of the milk of human kindness was short by several gallons
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
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.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
The only way of really finding out a man's true character is to play golf with him. In no other walk of life does the cloven hoof so quickly display itself.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
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
Image
It's curious how, when you're in love, you yearn to go about doing acts of kindness to everybody.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
What ho! I said. What ho! said Motty. What ho! What ho! What ho! What ho! What ho! After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
I'm not absolutely certain of the facts, but I rather fancy it's Shakespeare who says that it's always just when a fellow is feeling particularly braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up behind him with the bit of lead piping.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
I mean, imagine how some unfortunate Master Criminal would feel, on coming down to do a murder at the old Grange, if he found that not only was Sherlock Holmes putting in the weekend there, but Hercule Poirot, as well. ~ Bertram Bertie Wooster
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
Lady Glossip: Mr. Wooster, how would you support a wife? Bertie Wooster: Well, I suppose it depends on who's wife it was, a little gentle pressure beneath the elbow while crossing a busy street usually fits the bill.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
Oh, I don't know, you know, don't you know?
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
The spine, and I do not attempt to conceal the fact, had become soluble, in the last degree.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
I am told by those who know that there are six varieties of hangover-the Broken Compass, the Sewing Machine, the Comet, the Atomic, the Cement Mixer and the Gremlin Boogie, and his manner suggested that he had got them all.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
-'What do ties matter, Jeeves, at a time like this?' There is no time, sir, at which ties do not matter
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
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.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
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
Image
There are three things in the world that he held in the smallest esteem - slugs, poets and caddies with hiccups.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
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.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
Sober or blotto, this is your motto: keep muddling through.
P. G. Wodehouse
Image
She could not have gazed at him with a more rapturous intensity if she had been a small child and he a saucer of ice cream.
P. G. Wodehouse