I'm not absolutely certain of the facts, but I rather fancy it's Shakespeare who says that it's always just when a fellow is feeling particularly braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up behind him with the bit of lead piping.

I always advise people never to give advice.

His whole aspect was that of a man who has unexpectedly been struck by lightning.

The exquisite code of politeness of the Woosters prevented me clipping her one on the ear-hole, but I would have given a shilling to be able to do it. There seemed to me something deliberately fat-headed in the way she persisted in missing the gist.

I shoved on a dressing-gown, and flew downstairs like a mighty, rushing wind.

...with each new book of mine I have always the feeling that this time I have picked a lemon in the garden of literature.

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.