“Do you know, Watson," said he, "that it is one of the curses of a mind with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with reference to my own special subject. You look at these scattered houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them, and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation and of the impunity with which crime may be committed there.”
“Are they not fresh and beautiful?" [Watson] cried...Holmes shook his head gravely."... You look at these scattered houses, and you are impressed bu their beauty. I look at them, and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation and of the impunity with which crime may be committed here... They always filled me with a certain horror. It is my belief, Watson... that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beauty of the countryside... But the reason is obvious. The pressure of public opinion can do in the town what the law cannot accomplish.”
“What do you think? Does everything look right? " " You really expect me to look at anything but you? " She laughed even as her pulse jittered. " Boy, I must be in bad shape when a shopworn line like that hits the mark. " " I mean it, " he said and watched her smile fade. " I adore looking at you. " Laying a hand on her knees with a long, slow, thorough kiss. " Beautiful Margo. mine. " " Well, you're certainly taking my mind off my ... kiss me again. " " Glad to.”
“And Father said, "Christopher, do you understand that I love you?"And I said "Yes," because loving someone is helping them when they get into trouble, and looking after them, and telling them the truth, and Father looks after me when I get into trouble, like coming to the police station, and he looks after me by cooking meals for me, and he always tells me the truth, which means that he loves me.”
“He may not have said the words, but I know my son. I saw the way he looked at you.""How?""Like he'd do murder for you.”
“Do you know how fast you were going?"Fang looked at the speedometer..."No," he said truthfully. I tagged you at seventy miles per hour,"she said, pulling out a clipboard.I let out an impressed whistle. "Excellent! I never thought we'd be that fast." Fang shot me a look and I put my hand over my mouth.”