I Am A Brain, Watson. The Rest

It Is, I Admit, Mere Imagination; But How Often Is Imagination The Mother Of Truth?

Some People's Affability Is More Deadly Than The Violence Of Coarser Souls.

The Lowest And Vilest Alleys Of London Do Not Present A More Dreadful Record Of Sin Than Does The Smiling And Beautiful Countryside.

So Complex Is The Human Spirit That It Can Itself Scarce Discern The Deep Springs Which Impel It To Action.

On Glancing Over My Notes Of The Seventy Odd Cases In Which I Have During The Last Eight Years Studied The Methods Of My Friend Sherlock Holmes, I Find Many Tragic, Some Comic, A Large Number Merely Strange, But None Commonplace; For, Working As He Did Rather For The Love Of His Art Than For The Acquirement Of Wealth, He Refused To Associate Himself With Any Investigation Which Did Not Tend Towards The Unusual, And Even The Fantastic.