“Mr Wooster, I am not ashamed to say that the tears came into my eyes as I listened to them. It amazes me that a man as young as you can have been able to plumb human nature so surely to its depths; to play with so unerring a hand on the quivering heart-strings of your reader; to write novels so true, so human, so moving, so vital!""Oh, it's just a knack," I said.”
“From my earliest years I had always wanted to be a writer. It was not that I had any particular message for humanity. I am still plugging away and not the ghost of one so far, so it begins to look as though, unless I suddenly hit mid-season form in my eighties, humanity will remain a message short.”
“Now look here, old friend," I said. "I know your bally heart is broken and all that, and at some future time I shall be delighted to hear all about it, but - ""I didn't come to talk about that.""No? Good egg!""The past," said young Bingo, "is dead. Let us say no more about it.""Right-o!""I have been wounded to the very depths of my soul, but don't speak about it.""I won't.""Ignore it. Forget it.""Absolutely!"I hadn't seen him so dashed reasonable for days.”
“Good works?""About the village, sir. Reading to the bedridden - chatting with the sick - that sort of thing, sir. We can but trust that good results will ensue.""Yes, I suppose so," I said doubtfully. "But, by gosh, if I were a sick man I'd hate to have a looney like young Bingo coming and gibbering at my bedside.”
“It can't be done, old thing. Sorry, but it's out of the question. I couldn't go through all that again.""Not for me?""Not for a dozen more like you.""I never thought," said Bingo sorrowfully, "to hear those words from Bertie Wooster!""Well, you've heard them now," I said. "Paste them in your hat.""Bertie, we were at school together.""It wasn't my fault.""We've been pals for fifteen years.""I know. It's going to take me the rest of my life to live it down.”
“I don't want to wrong anybody, so I won't go so far as to say that she actually wrote poetry, but her conversation, to my mind, was of a nature calculated to excite the liveliest of suspicions. Well, I mean to say, when a girl suddenly asks you out of a blue sky if you don't sometimes feel that the stars are God's daisy-chain, you begin to think a bit.”
“As I stood in my lonely bedroom at the hotel, trying to tie my white tie myself, it struck me for the first time that there must be whole squads of chappies in the world who had to get along without a man to look after them. I'd always thought of Jeeves as a kind of natural phenomenon; but, by Jove! of course, when you come to think of it, there must be quite a lot of fellows who have to press their own clothes themselves and haven't got anybody to bring them tea in the morning, and so on. It was rather a solemn thought, don't you know. I mean to say, ever since then I've been able to appreciate the frightful privations the poor have to stick.”