We must always remember, however,' said Psmith gravely, 'that poets are also God's creatures.
P. G. WodehouseInto the face of the young man who sat on the terrace of the Hotel Magnifique at Cannes there had crept a look of furtive shame, the shifty, hangdog look which announces that an Englishman is about to talk French.
P. G. WodehouseWhen 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. WodehouseThere's too much of that where-every-prospect-pleases-and-only-man-is-vile stuff buzzing around for my taste.
P. G. Wodehouse