If there is one thing I dislike, it is the man who tries to air his grievances when I wish to air mine.

A lesser moustache, under the impact of that quick, agonised expulsion of breath, would have worked loose at the roots.

Mere abuse is no criticism.

The drowsy stillness of the afternoon was shattered by what sounded to his strained senses like G.K. Chesterton falling on a sheet of tin.

She gave me another of those long keen looks, and I could see that she was again asking herself if her favourite nephew wasn't steeped to the tonsils in the juice of the grape.

You're one of those guys who can make a party just by leaving it. It's a great gift.

The real objection to the great majority of cats is their insufferable air of superiority.