“If this is Upper Silesia, what on earth must Lower Silesia be like?”

“Hallo, Bertie.""Hallo, old turnip. Where have you been all this while?""Oh, here and there! Ripping weather we're having, Bertie.""Not bad.""I see the Bank Rate is down again.""No, really?""Disturbing news from Lower Silesia, what?""Oh, dashed!"He pottered about the room for a bit, babbling at intervals. The boy seemed cuckoo."Oh, I say, Bertie!" he said suddenly, dropping a vase which he had picked off the mantelpiece and was fiddling with. "I know what it was I wanted to tell you. I'm married.”

“It's brain," I said; "pure brain! What do you do to get like that, Jeeves? I believe you must eat a lot of fish, or something. Do you eat a lot of fish, Jeeves?""No, sir.""Oh, well, then, it's just a gift, I take it; and if you aren't born that way there's no use worrying.”

“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.”

“You must meet old Rowbotham, Bertie. A delightful chap. Wants to massacre the bourgeoisie, sack Park Lane and disembowel the hereditary aristocracy. Well, nothing could be fairer than that, what?”

“Have you ever been turned down by a girl who afterwards married and then been introduced to her husband? If so you'll understand how I felt when Clarence burst on me. You know the feeling. First of all, when you hear about the marriage, you say to yourself, "I wonder what he's like." Then you meet him, and think, "There must be some mistake. She can't have preferred this to me!”

“Take it for all in all, a representative gathering of Twing life and thought. The Nibs were whispering in a pleased manner to each other, the Lower Middles were sitting up very straight, as if they'd been bleached, and the Tough Eggs whiled away the time by cracking nuts and exchanging low rustic wheezes.”