The principle I always go on in writing a novel is to think of the characters in terms of actors in a play. I say to myself, if a big name were playing this part,...

Water!’ cried Marie.’Vinegar!’ recommended the bell-boy.’Eu-de-Cologne!’ said Bill.’Pepper!’ said Lord Tidmouth.Mary had another suggestion.’Give her air!’So had the bell-boy.’Slap her hands!’Lord Tidmouth went further.’Sit on her head!’ he advised.

Employers are like horses — they require management.

Freddie experienced the sort of abysmal soul-sadness which afflicts one of Tolstoy’s Russian peasants when, after putting in a heavy day’s work strangling his father, beating his wife, and dropping the baby into the city’s...

I mean to say, I know perfectly well that I’ve got, roughly speaking, half the amount of brain a normal bloke ought to possess. And when a girl comes along who has about twice the...

Into the face of the young man who sat on the terrace of the Hotel Magnifique at Cannes there had crept a look of furtive shame, the shifty hangdog look which announces that an Englishman...

…writing Jeeves stories gives me a great deal of pleasure and keeps me out of the public houses.

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.

Stimulated by the juice, I believe, men have even been known to ride alligators.

You won’t mind my calling you Comrade, will you? I’ve just become a socialist. It’s a great scheme. You ought to be one. You work for the equal distribution of property, and start by collaring...

The storm is over, there is sunlight in my heart. I have a glass of wine and sit thinking of what has passed.

Red hair, sir, in my opinion, is dangerous.

…there was practically one handwriting common to the whole school when it came to writing lines. It resembled the movements of a fly that had fallen into an ink-pot, and subsequently taken a little brisk...

Excuse me, I must go and putt

She looked like something that might have occured to Ibsen in one of his less frivolous moments.

There is only one cure for grey hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine.

There is no pathos more bitter than that of parting from someone we have never met.

It is the bungled crime that brings remorse.

The voice of a donkey braying in the neighbouring meadow seemed like the mocking laughter of demons.

He’s such a dear, Mr. Garnet. A beautiful, pure, bred Persian. He has taken prizes.””He’s always taking something – generally food.

Squiffy, have you ever felt a sort of strange emptiness in the heart? A sort of aching void of the soul?”Oh, rather!”What do you do about it?”I generally take a couple of cocktails.

Cosy Moments cannot be muzzled!

Luck is a goddess not to be coerced and forcibly wooed by those who seek her favours. From such masterful spirits she turns away. But it happens sometimes that, if we put our hand in...