I turned on the pillow with a little moan, and at this juncture Jeeves entered with the vital oolong. I clutched at it like a drowning man at a straw hat.
P. G. WodehouseRead
You're one of those guys who can make a party just by leaving it. It's a great gift.
Interpretation
Some people have a presence that is felt even in their absence, and this can be a remarkable trait.
This quote by P. G. Wodehouse humorously highlights the idea that certain individuals have such a strong personality or charisma that their departure from a gathering significantly alters the atmosphere. The ability to have a lasting impact, even when no longer present, can be considered both a blessing and a unique characteristic that draws attention and admiration.
In practice
At a farewell speech for a colleague known for their humor and charm.
I turned on the pillow with a little moan, and at this juncture Jeeves entered with the vital oolong. I clutched at it like a drowning man at a straw hat.
While not exactly disgruntled, he was far from feeling gruntled. He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.
She fitted into my biggest arm-chair as if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing arm-chairs tight about the hips that season
It was a nasty look. It made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended to bury later on, when he had time.
Memories are like mulligatawny soup in a cheap restaurant. It is wiser not to stir them.
It was a confusion of ideas between him and one of the lions he was hunting in Kenya that had caused A. B. Spottsworth to make the obituary column. He thought the lion was dead, and the lion thought it wasn't.
Some have supposed that the mosquito is of a devout turn, and never will partake of a meal without first saying grace. The devotions of some men are but a preface to blood-sucking.
That evening I rode downtown on an unaccountably empty bus, sitting in the last row. At the front I saw a thin cloud of smoke rising around the driverβs head. βHey, bus driver,β I said. βCan I smoke?β βMay I,β said the bus driver. βI love you,β I said.
Praise undeserved, is satire in disguise.
I was married once--in San Francisco. I haven't seen her for many years. The great earthquake and fire in 1906 destroyed the marriage certificate. There's no legal proof. Which proves that earthquakes aren't all bad.
I have a few cavities. I don't like to call them cavities, though - I like to call them 'places to put stuff'. 'Do you know where I can store a pea' 'Yes, I have some locations available.'
But do not give it to a lawyer's clerk to write, for they use a legal hand that Satan himself will not understand.
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