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.

"Dr. Munro, sir," said he, "I am a walking museum. You could fit what ISN'T the matter with me on to the back of a -- visiting card. If there's any complaint you want to make a special study of, just you come to me, sir, and see what I can do for you. It's not every one that can say that he has had cholera three times, and cured himself by living on red pepper and brandy."

Work is the best antidote to sorrow, my dear Watson.

You mentioned your name as if I should recognize it, but beyond the obvious facts that you are a bachelor, a solicitor, a freemason, and an asthmatic, I know nothing whatever about you.

When people bury treasure nowadays they do it in the Post-Office bank.

We balance probabilities and choose the most likely. It is the scientific use of the imagination.

Violence recoils on the violent.