I'm not absolutely certain of my facts, but I rather fancy it's Shakespeare — or, if not, it's some equally brainy lad — who says that it's always just when a chappie is feeling particularly top-hole, and more than usually braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up behind him with a bit of lead piping. There's no doubt the man's right.
— from "Jeeves and the Unbidden Guest," in My Man Jeeves, by P.G. Wodehouse.
It seems also to be true, as many people have decried before me, that P.G. Wodehouse is the perfect antidote to the blahs, a reading funk, or just a plain old bad day.
I'm straight away downloading more Wodehouse to have on standby.
