Desultory readers are seldom remarkable for the exactness of their learning.

The weak man becomes strong when he has nothing, for then only can he feel the wild, mad thrill of despair.

What a lovely thing a rose is!

I suppose I shall have to compound a felony as usual.

"I can see nothing," said I, handing it back to my friend. "On the contrary, Watson, you can see everything. You fail, however, to reason from what you see. You are too timid in drawing your inferences."

...Holmes, who loathed every form of society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature.

It is all in the way of professional experience.