You know how it is with some girls. They seem to take the stuffing right out of you. I mean to say, there is something about their personality that paralyses the vocal cords and reduces the contents of the brain to cauliflower.

Everything in life that’s any fun, as somebody wisely observed, is either immoral, illegal or fattening.

I know I was writing stories when I was five. I don't know what I did before that. Just loafed I suppose.

I hadn't the heart to touch my breakfast. I told Jeeves to drink it himself.

Unseen in the background, Fate was quietly slipping lead into the boxing-glove.

The least thing upset him on the links. He missed short putts because of the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadows.

I remember her telling me once that rabbits were the gnomes in attendance to the Fairy Queen and that the stars were God's daisy chain. Perfect rot, of course.