I never think of policemen's wives; their beauty maddens me like wine.
Why do people build houses to keep the climate out, then cut holes in the walls to let it in again? I shall never understand.
I have this heavy addiction to life and I'm told that the withdrawal symptoms are shocking.
Ten minutes later I was in an enormous taxi-cab, an air-conditioned one, hired for the day for fifty dollars; it seems an awful lot, I know, but money's worth awfully little over there, you'd be surprised. It's because there's so much of it, you see.
You would now be an enemy, in the third class, of my own organization. Only third class? I asked in the indignant tones which Queen Victoria surely used when she received the Abyssinian Order of Chastity, Second Class.
Somewhere in the trash he reads Martland has read that heavy men walk with surprising lightness and grace; as a result he trips about like a portly elf hoping to be picked up by a leprechaun.
The cold pork in the fridge was wilting at the edges; it and I exchanged looks of mutual contempt, like two women wearing the same hat in the Royal Enclosure at Ascot.
Sleep slunk up like a black panther and sank its kindly fangs into what remained of the Mortdecai brain.
A moral coward, you see, is simply someone who has read the fine print on the back of his Birth Certificate and seen the little clause which says You can't win.
Fate's fickle finger was feeling for my fundament.
He had made one mistake in an otherwise flawless performance: he hadn't told me his name. Have you ever exchanged three words with an American without being told his name?
I don't much care about tea-drinking in the afternoon; in the morning the stuff Jock brings to me in bed is like that Nepenthe which the wife of Thone gave to Jove-born Helena, but in the p.m. it always makes me think of Ganges mud in which crocodiles have been coupling.