The Times is a paper which is seldom found in any hands but those of the highly educated.

You will, I am sure, agree with me that... if page 534 only finds us in the second chapter, the length of the first one must have been really intolerable.

A sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then off to violin-land, where all is sweetness and delicacy and harmony.

His sanguine spirit turns every firefly into a star.

The stage lost a fine actor, even as science lost an acute reasoner, when [Holmes] became a specialist in crime.

There seems to me to be absolutely no limit to the inanity and credulity of the human race. Homo Sapiens! Homo idioticus!

It is horrible, yet fascinating, this struggle between a set purpose and an utterly exhausted frame.