P. G. Wodehouse Quotes - Page 13

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It's not that I don't trust you, Dunstable, it's simply that I don't trust you.

It's not that I don't trust you, Dunstable, it's simply that I don't trust you.

P. G. Wodehouse

I Don't Trust You, Don't Trust

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

P. G. Wodehouse

Thinking, Asbestos, Vests

P. G. Wodehouse (2016). “Expecting Jeeves”, p.148, Courier Dover Publications

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

P. G. Wodehouse

Crazy, Ifs

Other men puffed, snorted, and splashed. George passed through the ocean with the silent dignity of a torpedo. Other men swallowed water, here a mouthful, there a pint, anon, maybe, a quart or so, and returned to the shore like foundering derelicts. George's mouth had all the exclusiveness of a fashionable club. His breast stroke was a thing to see and wonder at. When he did the crawl, strong men gasped. When he swam on his back, you felt that that was the only possible method of progression.

P. G. Wodehouse

Strong, Ocean, Men

Why do dachshunds wear their ears inside out?

P. G. Wodehouse

Dog, Dachshunds, Ears

P.G. Wodehouse (2000). “How Right You Are, Jeeves”, p.119, Simon and Schuster

A lesser moustache, under the impact of that quick, agonised expulsion of breath, would have worked loose at the roots.

P. G. Wodehouse

Impact, Roots, Moustache

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.

P. G. Wodehouse

People, Letters, Insult

P. G. Wodehouse (2016). “Expecting Jeeves”, p.16, Courier Dover Publications

The cosy glow which had been enveloping the Duke became shot through by a sudden chill. It was as if he had been luxuriating in a warm shower bath, and some hidden hand had turned on the cold tap.

P. G. Wodehouse

War, Hands, Baths

"Uncle Fred in the Springtime". Book by P. G. Wodehouse, 1939.

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.

P. G. Wodehouse

Love Is, Needs, Calling

P.G. Wodehouse (2000). “Bertie Wooster Sees It Through”, p.34, Simon and Schuster