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.

It is the bungled crime that brings remorse.

I spent the afternoon musing on Life. If you come to think of it, what a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you see what I mean.

Why do dachshunds wear their ears inside out?

No one so dislikes being punished unjustly as the person who might have been punished justly on scores of previous occasions, if he had only been found out.

Providence looks after all the chumps of this world, and personally, I'm all for it.

The ideas of debtor and creditor as to what constitutes a good time never coincide.

She looked like something that might have occured to Ibsen in one of his less frivolous moments.

It was my Uncle George who discovered alcohol was a food well in advance of modern medical thought.

Woman is the unfathomable, incalculable mystery, the problem that we men can never hope to solve.

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

He was a Frenchman, a melancholy-looking man. His aspect was that of one who has been looking for the leak in a gas pipe with a lighted candle.

Well, you certainly are the most wonderfully woolly baa-lamb that ever stepped.

It has been well said that an author who expects results from a first novel is in a position similar to that of a man who drops a rose petal down the Grand Canyon of Arizona and listens for the echo.

I suppose he must have taken about a nine or something in hats. Shows what a rotten thing it is to let your brain develop too much.

When you have been just told that the girl you love is definitely betrothed to another, you begin to understand how Anarchists must feel when the bomb goes off too soon.

Say what you will, there is something fine about our old aristocracy. I'll bet Trotsky couldn't hit a moving secretary with an egg on a dark night.

Her pupils were at once her salvation and her despair. They gave her the means of supporting life, but they made life hardly worth supporting.

The least thing upset him on the links. He missed short putts because of the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadows.

There was a sound in the background like a distant sheep coughing gently on a mountainside. Jeeves sailing into action.

This is peculiarly an age in which each of us may, if he do but search diligently, find the literature suited to his mental powers.

A girl who bonnets a policeman with an ashcan full of bottles is obviously good wife-and-mother timber.

She's a sort of human vampire-bat

What a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you see what I mean.

It isn't often that Aunt Dahlia lets her angry passions rise, but when she does, strong men climb trees and pull them up after them.

As a dancer, I out-Fred the nimblest Astaire.

Well, there it is. That's Jeeves. Where others merely smite the brow and clutch the hair, he acts. Napoleon was the same.

Every author really wants to have letters printed in the paper. Unable to make the grade, he drops down a rung of the ladder and writes novels.

One prefers, of course, on all occasions to be stainless and above reproach, but, failing that, the next best thing is unquestionably to have got rid of the body.