All for the sake of love

     And if Steve ha had the pluck to tell Mamie that he loved her, as he stood before her dripping with the water which he had suffered in silence rather than betray her, she would have fallen into his arms. For Steve at that moment had all the glamour for her of the self-sacrificing hero of a moving-picture film. He had not actually risked death for her, perhaps, but he had taken a sudden cold shower-bath without a murmur - all for her.

    Mamie was thrilled. She looked at him with the gleaming eyes of devotion.

    But Steve, just because he knew that he was wet and fancied that he must look ridiculous, held his peace.

    And presently, his secret still locked in his bosom, and his collar sticking limply to his neck, he crept downstairs, avoiding the society of his fellow man, and slunk out into the night where, if there was no Mamie, there were, at any rate, dry clothes.

(from The Coming of Bill, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

The life of the idle rich

    "There's and angel for you. Now I'll fix you a cocktail as a reward."

    

    "Well, mind you sterilize it carefully."

    

    Ruth laughed. Having gained her point she could afford to. She made the cocktail and brought it to him.

    "And now I'll be off and dress, and then you can take me out to lunch somewhere."

    

    "Aren't you dressed?"

    "My goodness, no. Not for going to restaurants. You forget that I'm one of the idle rich now. I spend my whole day putting on different kinds of clothes. I've a position to keep up now, Mr. Winfield."

(from The Coming of Bill, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

    

Irresistible force

     "I shall bear up," said Kirk, when this fact was brought home to him. "I mistrust your aunt Lora as I should mistrust some great natural force which may become active at any moment and give you yours. An earthquake, for instance. I have no quarrel with your Aunt Lora in her quiescent state, but I fear the developments of that giant mind. We are better off without her."

    "All the same," said Ruth loyally, "she's rather a dear. And we ought to remember that, if it hadn't been for her, you and I would never have met."

    "I do remember it. And I'm grateful. But I can't help feeling that a woman capable of taking other people's lives and juggling with them as if they were india-rubber balls as she did with ours is likely at any moment to break out in a new place. My gratitude to her is the sort of gratitude you would feel toward a cyclone if you were walking home late for dinner and it caught you up and deposited you on your doorstep.

(from The Coming of Bill, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

A fairly normal child

    This remarkable child had a keen sense of humour. Thus he seldom began to cry in his best vein till the small hours of the morning; and on these occasions he would almost invariably begin again after he had been officially pronounced to be asleep. His sudden grab at the hair of any adult who happened to come within reach was very droll, too.

    As to his other characteristics, he was of rather an imperious nature. He liked to be waited on.  He wanted what he wanted when he wanted it. The greater part of his attention being occupied at his period with the important duty of chewing his thumb, he assigned the drudgery of life to his dependents. Their duties were to see that he got up in the morning, dressed, and took his tub; and after that to hang around on the chance of general orders.

(from The Coming of Bill, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

How to get married

     "You know, Kirk, we are both frightfully extravagant. I'm sure we are spending too much money as it is. You know you sold out some of your capital only the other day."

    "It was only that once. And you had set your heart on that pendant. Surely to goodness, if I drag you away from a comfortable home to live in a hovel, the least I can do is to - "

    "You didn't drag me. I just walked in and sat down, and you couldn't think how to get rid of me, so in despair you married me."

(from The Coming of Bill, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

Nothing wrong with being a teapot

    It was not so long ago, she reflected with pride, that she had induced Ruth to refuse to marry Basil Milbank - a considerable feat, he being a young man of remarkable personal attractions and a great match in every way. Mrs. Porter's objection to him was that his father had died believing to the last that he was a teapot.

    There is nothing evil or degrading in believing oneself a teapot, but it argues a certain inaccuracy of the thought processes, and Mrs. Porter had used all her influence with Ruth to make her reject Basil. It was her success that first showed her how great that influence was. She had come now to look on Ruth's destiny as something for which she was personally responsible - a fact which was noted and resented by others, in particular Ruth's brother Bailey, who regarded his aunt with a dislike and suspicion akin to that which a stray dog feels towards the boy who saunters towards him with a tin can in his hand.

(from The Coming of Bill, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)

The truth is a rare thing

     "Been waiting long?"

    "Long enough to have eaten if I'd thought of it. As it was, all I got was the coffee."

    That made the second lie. She had not been here for some time, and she had not come right here from home. He tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the visit to the Upshaw Building was so much a habit that she did not consider it. Still, it was out of her way in coming here.

    He wanted to believe her. Maybe that's why cops get cynical - they are lied to so often.

(from "I Hate To Tell His Widow," by Louis L'Amour)