Marriage is not a process for prolonging the life of love, sir. It merely mummifies its corpse.

The storm is over, there is sunlight in my heart. I have a glass of wine and sit thinking of what has passed.

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

I started violently, as if some unseen hand had goosed me.

Psmith is the only thing in my literary career which was handed to me on a plate with watercress round it, thus enabling me to avoid the blood, sweat and tears inseparable from an author's life.

As Shakespeare says, if you're going to do a thing you might as well pop right at it and get it over.

In every romance you have to budget for the occasional dust-up.