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

There is only one cure for grey hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine.

If he had a mind, there was something on it.

You would not enjoy Nietzsche, sir. He is fundamentally unsound.

In a series of events, all of which had been a bit thick, this, in his opinion, achieved the maximum of thickness.

I just sit at my typewriter and curse a bit.

As we grow older and realize more clearly the limitations of human happiness, we come to see that the only real and abiding pleasure in life is to give pleasure to other people.

She looked away. Her attitude seemed to suggest that she had finished with him, and would be obliged if somebody would come and sweep him up.

I hadn't the heart to touch my breakfast. I told Jeeves to drink it himself.

What's the use of a great city having temptations if fellows don't yield to them?

It is true of course, that I have a will of iron, but it can be switched off if the circumstances seem to demand it.

I pressed down the mental accelerator. The old lemon throbbed fiercely. I got an idea.

It is no use telling me there are bad aunts and good aunts. At the core, they are all alike. Sooner or later, out pops the cloven hoof.

Some minds are like soup in a poor restaurant—better left unstirred.

Whenever I get that sad, depressed feeling, I go out and kill a policeman.

As for Gussie Finknottle, many an experienced undertaker would have been deceived by his appearance and started embalming on sight.

Love is a delicate plant that needs constant tending and nurturing, and this cannot be done by snorting at the adored object like a gas explosion and calling her friends lice.

Well, you know, there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship.

Hell, it is well known, has no fury like a woman who wants her tea and can't get it.

She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing arm-chairs tight about the hips that season

He felt like a man who, chasing rainbows, has had one of them suddenly turn and bite him in the leg.

She had more curves than a scenic railway

The drowsy stillness of the afternoon was shattered by what sounded to his strained senses like G.K. Chesterton falling on a sheet of tin.

-'What do ties matter, Jeeves, at a time like this?' There is no time, sir, at which ties do not matter

We Woosters do not lightly forget. At least, we do - some things - appointments, and people's birthdays, and letters to post, and all that - but not an absolutely bally insult like the above.

I am Psmith," said the old Etonian reverently. "There is a preliminary P before the name. This, however, is silent. Like the tomb. Compare such words as ptarmigan, psalm, and phthisis.

Employers are like horses — they require management.

It was one of the dullest speeches I ever heard. The Agee woman told us for three quarters of an hour how she came to write her beastly book, when a simple apology was all that was required.

Intoxicated? The word did not express it by a mile. He was oiled, boiled, fried, plastered, whiffled, sozzled, and blotto.

An apple a day, if well aimed, keeps the doctor away.

Gussie, a glutton for punishment, stared at himself in the mirror.

You're one of those guys who can make a party just by leaving it. It's a great gift.

I suppose half the time Shakespeare just shoved down anything that came into his head.

When a girl uses six derogatory adjectives in her attempt to paint the portrait of the loved one, it means something. One may indicate a merely temporary tiff. Six is big stuff.

To find a man's true character, play golf with him.

You can't be a successful Dictator and design women's underclothing.

I mean, if you're asking a fellow to come out of a room so that you can dismember him with a carving knife, it's absurd to tack a 'sir' on to every sentence. The two things don't go together.

Has anybody ever seen a drama critic in the daytime? Of course not. They come out after dark, up to no good.

I don't know if you know it, J.B., but you're the sort of fellow who causes hundreds to fall under suspicion when he's found stabbed in his library with a paper-knife of Oriental design.

I can detach myself from the world. If there is a better world to detach oneself from than the one functioning at the moment I have yet to hear of it.

Warm-hearted! I should think he has to wear asbestos vests!

I marmaladed a slice of toast with something of a flourish and I don't suppose I have ever come much closer to saying 'Tra la la' as I did the lathering for I was feeling in mid season form this morning.

...it has been well said that it is precisely these moments when we are feeling that ours is the world and everything that's in it that Fate selects for sneaking up on us with the rock in the stocking.

Jeeves, you really are a specific dream-rabbit." "Thank you, miss. I am glad to have given satisfaction.

Oh, I don't know, you know, don't you know?

[I'm] as broke as the ten commandments.

I expect I shall feel better after tea.

I remember her telling me once that rabbits were the gnomes in attendance to the Fairy Queen and that the stars were God's daisy chain. Perfect rot, of course.

This was not Aunt Dahlia, my good and kindly aunt, but my Aunt Agatha, the one who chews broken bottles and kills rats with her teeth.

Everything is relative. you, for instance, are my relative.