Anything Seems Commonplace, Once Explained.

Several Incidents In My Life Have Convinced Me Of Spiritual Interposition - Of The Promptings Of Some Beneficent Force Outside Ourselves, Which Tries To Help Us Where It Can.

Man, Or At Least Criminal Man, Has Lost All Enterprise And Originality. As To My Own Little Practice, It Seems To Be Degenerating Into An Agency For Recovering Lost Lead Pencils And Giving Advice To Young Ladies From Boarding-schools.

Education Never Ends, Watson. It Is A Series Of Lessons, With The Greatest For The Last.

I Had Hardly Expected So Dolichocephalic A Skull Or Such Well-marked Supra-orbital Development. Would You Have Any Objection To My Running My Finger Along Your Parietal Fissure? A Cast Of Your Skull, Sir, Until The Original Is Available, Would Be An Ornament To Any Anthropological Museum. It Is Not My Intention To Be Fulsome, But I Confess That I Covet Your Skull.

My Life Is Spent In One Long Effort To Escape From The Commonplaces Of Existence. These Little Problems Help Me To Do So.