Violence Recoils On The Violent.

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!(...)

There Are Fifty Who Can Reason Synthetically For One Who Can Reason Analytically.

You Have A Grand Gift For Silence, Watson. It Makes You Quite Invaluable As A Companion.

I Consider That A Man's Brain Originally Is Like A Little Empty Attic, And You Have To Stock It With Such Furniture As You Choose. [...] It Is A Mistake To Think That That Little Room Has Elastic Walls And Can Distend To Any Extent. [...] It Is Of The Highest Importance, Therefore, Not To Have Useless Facts Elbowing Out The Useful Ones.

He Spoke Wistfully Of A Sudden Leaving, A Breaking Of Old Ties, A Flight Into A Strange World, Ending In This Dreary Valley, And Ettie Listened, Her Dark Eyes Gleaming With Pity And With Sympathy - Those Two Qualities Which May Turn So Rapidly And So Naturally To Love.