10 Best Thoughts of P.G. Wodehouse (1881-1975), Novelist, Playwright, Lyricist.
Flowers are happy things.
At the age of eleven or thereabouts women acquire a poise and an ability to handle difficult situations which a man, if he is lucky, manages to achieve somewhere in the later seventies.
Everything in life that's any fun, as somebody wisely observed, is either immoral, illegal or fattening.
Work, the what's-its-name of the thingummy and the thing-um-a-bob of the what d'you-call-it.
He gave the impression that each word was excavated from his interior by some up-to-date process of mining.
He felt like a man who, chasing rainbows, has had one of them suddenly turn and bite him in the leg.
Breakfast had been prepared by the kitchen maid, an indifferent performer who had used the scorched earth policy on the bacon again.
To say that his conscience was clear would be inaccurate, for he did not have a conscience, but he had what was much better, an alibi.
Suddenly there was a sound like G.K. Chesterton falling on a tin roof.
Woman is the unfathomable, incalculable mystery, the problem that we men can never hope to solve.
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