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.

But everything is relative, Bertie... You, for instance, are my relative, and I am your relative.

Warm-hearted! I should think he has to wear asbestos vests!

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.

The spine, and I do not attempt to conceal the fact, had become soluble, in the last degree.

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.

He looks much more like a lobster than most lobsters do.