It would take more than long-stemmed roses to change my view that you're a despicable cowardy custard and a disgrace to a proud family. Your ancestors fought in the Crusades and were often mentioned in despatches, and you cringe like a salted snail at the thought of appearing as Santa Claus before an audience of charming children who wouldn't hurt a fly. It's enough to make an aunt turn her face to the wall and give up the struggle.

There's a sort of wooly headed duckiness about you. If I wasn't so crazy about Marmaduke, I could really marry you Bertie.

It was a nasty look. It made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended to bury later on, when he had time.

Statisticians estimate that crime among good golfers is lower than in any class of the community except possibly bishops.

Comedy is the kindly contemplation of the incongruous.

When you're alone you don't do much laughing.

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.