Bertie Wooster

P.G.Woodhouse is a good tonic for the spirits. I've nearly finished "Thank you, Jeeves". Bertie Wooster has sacked Jeeves and got a new valet, Brinkley, from an agency. He's doubtful about him from the start, describing him as "A melancholy blighter...who was musing on the coming Social Revolution and looked on Bertram as a tyrant and oppressor." Later Brinkley gets drunk and has a mad fit which results in this exchange between Bertie and the "old pot of poison", Sir Roderick Glossop:
"He nearly got me with a carving knife."
"As far as I could discern, the weapon he carried was more in the order of a chopper."
"He varies," I explained. "Now the carving knife, anon the chopper. Versatile chap. It's the artistic temperament, I suppose."
"You speak as if you know this man."
"I do more than know him. I employ him. He's my valet."
"Your valet?"
"Fellow named Brinkley. He won't be my valet long, mind you. If he ever simmers down enough for me to get near him and give him the sack. Ironical that, when you come to think of it. I mean, do you realize that I'm giving this chap a salary all this time? In other words, he's actually being paid to chivvy me about with carving knives. If that's not Life, what is?"