I don't speak for others and they don't speak for me.

Our ideas must be as broad as Nature if they are to interpret Nature.

What can we know? What are we all? Poor silly half-brained things peering out at the infinite, with the aspirations of angels and the instinct of beasts.

You will ruin no more lives as you ruined mine. You will wring no more hearts as you wrung mine. I will free the world of a poisonous thing. Take that, you hound, and that! - and that! - and that! - and that!

There is a danger there - a very real danger to humanity. Consider, Watson, that the material, the sensual, the worldly would all prolong their worthless lives. The spiritual would not avoid the call to something higher. It would be the survival of the least fit. What sort of cesspool may not our poor world become?

You cannot see the lettuce and the dressing without suspecting a salad.

I know, my dear Watson, that you share my love of all that is bizarre and outside the conventions and humdrum routine of daily life.