There Is But One Step From The

To Let The Brain Work Without Sufficient Material Is Like Racing An Engine. It Racks Itself To Pieces.

Was It Hardness, Was It Selfishness, That She Should Ask Me To Risk My Life For Her Own Glorification? Such Thoughts May Come To Middle Age; But Never To Ardent Three-and-twenty In The Fever Of His First Love.

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

It Isn't True That The Laws Of Nature Have Been Capriciously Disturbed; That Snakes Have Talked; That Women Have Been Turned Into Salt; That Rods Have Brought Water Out Of Rocks.

The Stage Lost A Fine Actor, Even As Science Lost An Acute Reasoner, When [holmes] Became A Specialist In Crime.