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

It was my Uncle George who discovered that alcohol was a food well in advance of modern medical thought.

...there was practically one handwriting common to the whole school when it came to writing lines. It resembled the movements of a fly that had fallen into an ink-pot, and subsequently taken a little brisk exercise on a sheet of foolscap by way of restoring the circulation.

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

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

New York is a small place when it comes to the part of it that wakes up just as the rest is going to bed.

That is life. Just one long succession of misunderstandings and rash acts and what not. Absolutely.