My Go-To Mood Elevating Read

I've been feeling crabby and directionless lately so I picked up a P.G. Wodehouse novel and started reading a couple days ago.  While I'm still somewhat crabby and directionless, I'm also working a lot of 1930's British slang into my regular routine.  The point is, I'd enjoy reading P.G. Wodehouse even if I was simultaneously hacksawing one of my own legs off.

I had originally planned to devote an entire blog entry to old Plum, as he was sometimes called, but I already did that last year.  Instead, I think I'll add a list of Wodehouse quotes and get back to work.

• The voice of Love seemed to call to me, but it was a wrong number.
• I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.
• 
  He had just about enough intelligence to open his mouth when he wanted to eat, but certainly no more.
• At the age of eleven or thereabouts women acquire a poise and an ability to handle difficult situations which a man, if he is lucky, manages to achieve somewhere in the later seventies.
• I pressed down the mental accelerator. The old lemon throbbed fiercely. I got an idea.
• It is no use telling me there are bad aunts and good aunts. At the core, they are all alike. Sooner or later, out pops the cloven hoof.
• Warm-hearted! I should think he has to wear asbestos vests!
• A girl who bonnets a policeman with an ashcan full of bottles is obviously good wife-and-mother timber.
• Intoxicated? The word did not express it by a mile. He was oiled, boiled, fried, plastered, whiffled, sozzled, and blotto.
• He felt like a man who, chasing rainbows, has had one of them suddenly turn and bite him in the leg.
• This was not Aunt Dehlia, my good and kindly aunt, but my Aunt Agatha, the one who chews broken bottles and kills rats with her teeth.