“The good Watson had at that time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action I can recall in our association. I was alone.”

“I am a brain, Watson. The rest of me is a mere appendix.”

“You would not call me a marrying man, Watson?""No, indeed!""You'll be interested to hear that I'm engaged.""My dear fellow! I congrat-""To Milverton's housemaid.""My dear Holmes!""I wanted information, Watson.”

“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!(...)”

“I had no keener pleasure than in following Holmes in his professional investigations, and in admiring the rapid deductions, as swift as intuitions, and yet always founded on a logical basis, with which he unravelled the problems which were submitted to him. I rapidly threw on my clothes, and was ready in a few minutes to accompany my friend down to the sitting-room. A lady dressed in black and heavily veiled, who had been sitting in the window, rose as we entered.'Good morning, madam, said Holmes, cheerily. 'My name is Sherlock Holmes. This is my intimate friend and associate, Dr. Watson, before whom you can speak as freely as before myself.”

“Should I ever marry, Watson, I should hope to inspire my wife with some feeling which would prevent her from being walked off by a housekeeper when my corpse was lying within a few yards of her.”

“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.”