I Could Not Rest, Watson, I Could

...it Was A Huge Creature, Luminous, Ghastly, And Spectral. I Have Cross-examined These Men, One Of Them A Hard-headed Countryman, One A Farrier, And One A Moorland Farmer, Who All Tell The Same Story Of This Dreadful Apparition, Exactly Corresponding To The Hell-hound Of The Legend. I Assure You That There Is A Reign Of Terror In The District, And That It Is A Hardy Man Who Will Cross The Moor At Night.

Conceive A Jelly-fish Such As Sails In Our Summer Seas, Bell-shaped And Of Enormous Size - Far Larger, I Should Judge, Than The Dome Of St. Paul's. It Was Of A Light Pink Colour Veined With A Delicate Green, But The Whole Huge Fabric So Tenuous That It Was But A Fairy Outline Against The Dark Blue Sky. It Pulsated With A Delicate And Regular Rhythm. From It There Depended Two Long Drooping, Green Tentacles, Which Swayed Slowly Backwards And Forwards. This Gorgeous Vision Passed Gently With Noiseless Dignity Over My Head, As Light And Fragile As A Soap-bubble, And Drifted Upon Its Stately Way.

Let Me Run Over The Principal Steps. We Approached The Case, You Remember, With An Absolutely Blank Mind, Which Is Always An Advantage. We Had Formed No Theories. We Were Simply There To Observe And To Draw Inferences From Our Observations.

My Dear Watson," Said [sherlock Holmes], "i Cannot Agree With Those Who Rank Modesty Among The Virtues. To The Logician All Things Should Be Seen Exactly As They Are, And To Underestimate One's Self Is As Much A Departure From Truth As To Exaggerate One's Own Powers.

What Is The Meaning Of It, Watson? Said Holmes Solemnly As He Laid Down The Paper. "what Object Is Served By This Circle Of Misery And Violence And Fear? It Must Tend To Some End, Or Else Our Universe Is Ruled By Chance, Which Is Unthinkable. But What End? There Is The Great Standing Perennial Problem To Which Human Reason Is As Far From An Answer As Ever.