Dark hair fell in a sweep over his forehead. He looked like a man who would write vers libre, as indeed he did.
When it comes to letting the world in on the secrets of his heart, he has about as much shrinking reticence as a steam calliope.
This is peculiarly an age in which each of us may, if he do but search diligently, find the literature suited to his mental powers.
The brains of members of the Press departments of motion-picture studios resemble soup at a cheap restaurant. It is wiser not to stir them.
They pointed out that the friendship between the two artistes had always been a by-word or whatever you called it. A well-read Egg summed it up by saying they were like Thingummy and what’s-his-name.
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.
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.
We Woosters do not lightly forget. At least, we do – some things – appointments, and people’s birthdays, and letters to post, and all that – but not an absolutely bally insult like the above.
Just another proof, of course, of what I often say – it takes all sorts to make a world.
You can’t be a successful Dictator and design women’s underclothing.
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.
I mean, if you’re asking a fellow to come out of a room so that you can dismember him with a carving knife, it’s absurd to tack a ‘sir’ on to every sentence. The two things don’t go together.
The cosy glow which had been enveloping the Duke became shot through by a sudden chill. It was as if he had been luxuriating in a warm shower bath, and some hidden hand had turned on the cold tap.
A lesser moustache, under the impact of that quick, agonised expulsion of breath, would have worked loose at the roots.
Birds, except when broiled and in the society of a cold bottle, bored him stiff.
It’s not that I don’t trust you, Dunstable, it’s simply that I don’t trust you.
You are falling into your old error, Jeeves, of thinking that Gussie is a parrot. Fight against this. I shall add the oz.
Woman is the unfathomable, incalculable mystery, the problem that we men can never hope to solve.
She’s a sort of human vampire-bat.
It was one of the most disgusting spectacles I’ve ever seen – this white-haired old man, who should have been thinking of the hereafter, standing there lying like an actor.