By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘Across the pale parabola of Joy…’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

In a journey lasting several hours his society was likely to prove irksome.

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘I have never written a poem about fish.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘Let me describe for you the Yew Alley at Blandings.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘Steal your aunt’s necklace?’ he said indulgently.

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘I thought you’d be a tougher specimen altogether.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

The distressing shrub completely spoiled his walk.

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘You find me natty? Well, well, perhaps you are right.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘I mean, a joke’s a joke, but that was a dashed good umbrella.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘If only there were no hats or safety bets in the world, I would be smugly opulent.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘He’s such a persevering young man. He proposes early and often.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘I shall probably have to rush out and marry someone myself.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘The p, I should add for your guidance, is silent.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

“Psmith Is Ready For Anything”

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘Don’t say “may”,’ cried Freddie buoyantly. ‘The word is “will.” Bally will! What ho!’