There Are Heroisms All Round Us Waiting

How Wise And How Merciful Is That Provision Of Nature By Which His Earthly Anchor Is Usually Loosened By Many Little Imperceptible Tugs, Until His Consciousness Has Drifted Out Of Its Untenable Earthly Harbor Into The Great Sea Beyond!

[sherlock Holmes:] The Temptation To Form Premature Theories Upon Insufficient Data Is The Bane Of Our Profession.

You're Not Hurt, Watson? For God's Sake, Say That You Are Not Hurt!" It Was Worth A Wound -- It Was Worth Many Wounds -- To Know The Depth Of Loyalty And Love Which Lay Behind That Cold Mask. The Clear, Hard Eyes Were Dimmed For A Moment, And The Firm Lips Were Shaking. For The One And Only Time I Caught A Glimpse Of A Great Heart As Well As Of A Great Brain. All My Years Of Humble But Single-minded Service Culminated In That Moment Of Revelation.

Sherlock Holmes Took His Bottle From The Corner Of The Mantel-piece, And His Hypodermic Syringe From Its Neat Morocco Case. With His Long, White, Nervous Fingers He Adjusted The Delicate Needle, And Rolled Back His Left Shirt-cuff. For Some Little Time His Eyes Rested Thoughtfully Upon The Sinewy Forearm And Wrist, All Dotted And Scarred With Innumerable Puncture-marks. Finally, He Thrust The Sharp Point Home, Pressed Down The Tiny Piston, And Sank Back Into The Velvet-lined Armchair With A Long Sigh Of Satisfaction.

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!(...)