p.g._wodehouse – blackandwhiteandcolours

What do you want me to do?

I didn’t mean to be cross.

It explains everything.

You know the feeling.

I’m so glad you were able to come.

It rattled me rather, I must confess.

That’s all there was about it.

It’s all dashed puzzling.

I spent the afternoon musing on Life.

You haven’t got a moment to waste.

Would you desert a pal at a time like this?

This is the best thing that could have happened.

Yes, it was a peaceful sort of life.

I don’t see that I could have done any more.

You’ve got to make an effort.

He didn’t want to talk.

There didn’t seem much to be done. I just lit a cigarette and sat there.

I’m speaking of the past.

That’s always the way in this world.

Each of the hens has a dozen chickens. The chickens grow up and have more chickens.

It didn’t seem to do him any good.

There must be something we can do.

Can you think of anything?

I never expected anything like this!

What on earth am I to do?

In a way, I couldn’t help sympathizing with the fellow.

This is my only chance to collect a past, and I’m going to do it.

We’re only young once.

There was nothing I could do.

These things are just life’s mysteries, and that’s all there is to it.

My mind has been working absolutely clearly.

Life’s nothing but words, words, words.

We don’t really know anything at all about each other for certain.

He felt physically incapable of moving.

Reason was temporarily out of business.

Funny I never looked at it that way before.

You’ve got habits which you have had for a dozen years.

You like life to jog along at a peaceful walk.

The dreamy sense of well-being left him.

Good heavens! Do you think I did it?

He had the feeling that all was not well.

The whole thing worked out logically.

No alien figures infested the landscape.

Everywhere was peace.

Away in the distance a dog began to howl.

Are all these good things to stop as quickly as they began?

She said nothing about that when I saw her.

There had been a notable lack of interesting happenings this summer.

He felt a certain scornful amusement.

Simply that and nothing more.