“...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.”

“I'm not absolutely certain of my facts, but I rather fancy it's Shakespeare -- or, if not, it's some equally brainy lad -- who says that it's always just when a chappie is feeling particularly top-hole, and more than usually braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up behind him with a bit of lead piping.”

“Do you realise that about two hundred of Twing's heftiest are waiting for you outside to chuck you into the pond?""No!""Absolutely!"For a moment the poor chap seemed crushed. But only for a moment. There has always been something of the good old English bulldog breed about Bingo. A strange, sweet smile flickered for an instant over his face."It's all right," he said. "I can sneak out through the cellar and climb over the wall at the back. They can't intimidate me!”

“The blighter's manner was so cold and unchummy that I bit the bullet and had a dash at being airy."Oh, well, tra-la-la!" I said."Precisely, sir," said Jeeves.”

“And you call yourself a pal of mine!""Yes, I know; but there are limits.""Bertie," said Bingo reproachfully, "I saved your life once.""When?""Didn't I? It must have been some other fellow then. Well, anyway, we were boys together and all that. You can't let me down.""Oh, all right," I said. "But, when you say you haven't nerve enough for any dashed thing in the world, you misjudge yourself.”

“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.”

“You know how it is as a rule, when you want to get Chappie A on Spot B at exactly the same moment when Chappie C is on Spot D. There's always a chance of a hitch. Take the case of a general, I mean to say, who's planning out a big movement. He tells one regiment to capture the hill with the windmill on it at the exact moment when another regiment is taking the bridgehead or something down in the valley; and everything gets all messed up. And then, when they're chatting the thing over in camp that night, the colonel of the first regiment says, "Oh, sorry! Did you say the hill with the windmill? I thought you said the one with the flock of sheep." And there you are!”