When Cynthia smiles, said young Bingo, the skies are blue; the world takes on a roseate hue; birds in the garden trill and sing, and Joy is king of everything, when Cynthia smiles. He coughed, changing gears. When Cynthia frowns - What the devil are you talking about?I'm reading you my poem. The one I wrote to Cynthia last night. I'll go on, shall I?No!No?No. I haven't had my tea.
P. G. WodehouseYou're one of those guys who can make a party just by leaving it. It's a great gift.
P. G. WodehouseThere are three things in the world that he held in the smallest esteem - slugs, poets and caddies with hiccups.
P. G. Wodehouse