So Tomorrow We Disappear Into The Unknown.

My Uncle, Mr. Stephen Maple, Had Been At The Same Time The Most Successful And The Least Respectable Of Our Family, So That We Hardly Knew Whether To Take Credit For His Wealth Or To Feel Ashamed Of His Position.

All Right, Watson. Don’t Look So Scared,” He Muttered In A Very Weak Voice. “it’s Not As Bad As It Seems.” “thank God For That!” “i’m A Bit Of A Single-stick Expert, As You Know. I Took Most Of Them On My Guard. It Was The Second Man That Was Too Much For Me.” “what Can I Do, Holmes? Of Course, It Was That Damned Fellow Who Set Them On. I’ll Go And Thrash The Hide Off Him If You Give The Word.” “good Old Watson!(...)

Violence Recoils On The Violent.

Draw Your Chair Up, And Hand Me My Violin, For The Only Problem Which We Have Still To Solve Is How To While Away These Bleak Autumnal Evenings.

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.