It's a very fine line between acting languid and sounding sarcastic. But should you ever be able to straddle that line and so be able to embrace both characteristics, a) you would be very fortunate indeed, and b) you will be able to rattle off a fine line like this, without any trouble:
"I find you refreshing, (insert name here). You're not in the least witty, but you have a kind of obvious facetiousness which reminds me of the less exacting class of music-hall."
This was taken from "The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club", by Dorothy Sayers, a book abounding with languidity. I always look to the Sayers mysteries whenever I feel that I need to brush up on my early 20th century upper-class slang.
I worship wit and words. I adore dialogue. I've heard it said that too much of an emphasis on cleverness and wit merely succeeds in cloaking the words' honesty. Not so. You'll get to the truth; only at a slower pace. What's the rush? You'll get there, and when you do you will not only be enlightened, but you will have also been entertained.
As Dylan Thomas once said, "Love the words."