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The real objection to the great majority of cats is their insufferable air of superiority.
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
Superiority
Cats
Cat
Majority
Air
Real
Insufferable
Great
Objection
Objections
More quotes by P. G. Wodehouse
I can detach myself from the world. If there is a better world to detach oneself from than the one functioning at the moment I have yet to hear of it.
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I pressed down the mental accelerator. The old lemon throbbed fiercely. I got an idea.
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What you want, my lad, and what you're going to get are two very different things.
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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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But everything is relative, Bertie... You, for instance, are my relative, and I am your relative.
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They were real golfers, for real golf is a thing of the spirit, not of mere mechanical excellence of stroke.
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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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There is only one cure for gray hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine.
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Do men who have got all their marbles go swimming in lakes with their clothes on?
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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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Oh, I don't know, you know, don't you know?
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As a child of eight Mr. Trout had once kissed a girl of six under the mistletoe at a Christmas party, but there his sex life had come to abrupt halt.
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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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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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I love writing. I never feel really comfortable unless I am either actually writing or have a story going. I could not stop writing.
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Sober or blotto, this is your motto: keep muddling through.
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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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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.
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Unlike the male codfish which, suddenly finding itself the parent of three million five hundred thousand little codfish, cheerfully resolves to love them all, the British aristocracy is apt to look with a somewhat jaundiced eye on its younger sons.
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the supply of the milk of human kindness was short by several gallons
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