His aspect was that of one who has been looking for the leak in a gas pipe with a lighted candle. - P. G. Wodehouse

He then gave a hideous laugh and added that, if anybody was interested in his plans, he was going to join the Foreign Legion, that cohort of the damned in which broken men may toil and die and dying, forget. ‘Beau Widgeon?’ said the Egg, impressed. ‘What ho!’

I once got engaged to his daughter Honoria, a ghastly dynamic exhibit who read Nietzsche and had a laugh like waves breaking on a stern and rockbound coast.

She had a beaky nose, tight thin lips, and her eye could have been used for splitting logs in the teak forests of Borneo.