In English country towns, if the public houses do not actually outnumber the inhabitants, they all do an excellent trade.The church is Norman, and the intelligence of the majority of the natives palaeozoic. The village of Market Blandings is one of those sleepy hamlets which modern progress has failed to touch.He was possibly as nearly contented a human being can be in this century of alarms and excursions. His name, when he died, would not live for ever in England's annals he was spared the pain of worrying about this by the fact that he had no desire to live for ever in England's annals. He never experienced the thrill of ambition fulfilled, but, on the other hand, he never knew the agony of ambition frustrated. His was a life which lacked, perhaps, the sublimer emotions which raised Man to the level of the gods, but it was undeniably an extremely happy one.So was victory turned into defeat, and Billy's jaw became squarer and his eye more full of the light of battle than ever.'Work, the what's-its-name of the thingummy and the thing-um-a-bob of the what d'you-call-it.'.(Earlier usage of the precise words 'Elementary, my dear Watson' has been found in the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.) 'Elementary, my dear Watson, elementary,' murmured Psmith.Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been.' (quoting John Greenleaf Whittier).The right sort of people do not want apologies, and the wrong sort take a mean advantage of them. It is a good rule in life never to apologize.1.48 Sunset at Blandings (1977 (posthumously published)).

1.47 Pearls, Girls and Monty Bodkin (1972).

1.37 Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit (1954).

1.27 Uncle Fred in the Springtime (1939).

Cocktail time wodehouse