Memories are like mulligatawny soup in a cheap restaurant. It is wiser not to stir them.

There are three things in the world that he held in the smallest esteem - slugs, poets and caddies with hiccups.

You probably think that being a guest in your aunt's house I would hesitate to butter you all over the front lawn and dance on the fragments in hobnailed boots, but you are mistaken. It would be a genuine pleasure. By an odd coincidence I brought a pair of hobnailed boots with me!' So saying, and recognising a good exit line when he saw one, he strode out, and after an interval of tense meditation I followed him. (Spode to Wooster)

Marriage is not a process for prolonging the life of love, sir. It merely mummifies its corpse.

The ideas of debtor and creditor as to what constitutes a good time never coincide.

He was either a man of about a hundred and fifty who was rather young for his years, or a man of about a hundred and ten who had been aged by trouble.

The only thing that prevented a father's love from faltering was the fact that there was in his possession a photograph of himself at the same early age, in which he, too, looked like a homicidal fried egg.