“The English have only one sauce, melted butter.”

“She looks as if butter wou'dn't melt in her mouth.”

“673. As demure as if Butter would not melt in his Mouth.”

“The game minus slow bowling is like bread without butter or, even worse, French cuisine without the sauces.”

“Damn, that werewolf melts my butter,” Mari sighed. “He’s so miserable,” she added delightedly.”

“The only really good vegetable is Tabasco sauce. Put Tabasco sauce in everything. Tabasco sauce is to bachelor cooking what forgiveness is to sin.”

“How much do you love me?' Midori asked.

'Enough to melt all the tigers in the world to butter,' I said.”

“Tea would arrive, the cakes squatting on cushions of cream, toast in a melting shawl of butter, cups agleam and a faint wisp of steam rising from the teapot shawl.”

“Butter not only wouldn’t melt in this mouth, it wouldn’t go in; one runs away, an urchin in the gutter and glad to be, murmuring: “The Queen of Spain has no legs.” … One’s eyes widen; one sits the poet down in the porch swing, starts to go off to get her a glass of lemonade, and sees her metamorphosed before one’s eyes into a new Critique of Practical Reason.., feminine gender…”

“Alf Todd,’ said Ukridge, soaring to an impressive burst of imagery, ‘has about as much chance as a one-armed blind man in a dark room trying to shove a pound of melted butter into a wild-cat’s ear with a red-hot needle.”