Mrs. Hudson: I won't go in there by myself, not while he's got a gun in his hand!
Dr. Watson: You don't have to go in there at all.
Mrs. Hudson: What will I do when you leave, doctor? He'll bring the whole house down!
Dr. Watson: He just needs another case, that's all.
Sherlock Holmes: Don't touch. Everything is in its proper place... as per usual, Nanny.
Mrs. Hudson: Oh, he's killed the dog. Again.
Dr. John Watson: What have you done to Gladstone now?
Sherlock Holmes: I was simply testing a new anesthetic. He doesn't mind.
Dr. John Watson: Why is the only woman you've cared about a world class criminal? Are you a masochist?
Sherlock Holmes: Whatever he was working on, he obviously succeeded.
Dr. John Watson: How do you know?
Sherlock Holmes: Otherwise, he'd still be alive.
Sherlock Holmes: Un moment, s'il vous plait. (One moment, please)
Dredger: Je ne suis pas pressé. (I'm not in a hurry.)
Holmes: You've never complained about my methods before.
Dr. Watson: I'm not complaining.
Holmes: You're not? What do you call this?
Dr. Watson: I never complain! How am I complaining? When do I ever complain about you practicing the violin at three in the morning, or your mess, your general lack of hygiene, or the fact that you steal my clothes? Holmes: Uh, we have a barter system...
Dr. Watson: When have I ever complained about you setting fire to my rooms?
Holmes: Our rooms...
Dr. Watson: The rooms! Or, or, the fact that you experiment on my dog?
Holmes: Our dog...
Dr. Watson: The dog!
Holmes: Gladstone is our dog!
Inspector Lestrade: In another life, Mr. Holmes, you would have made a excellent criminal.
Sherlock Holmes: Yes, and you an excellent policeman.
Sir Thomas: Mr. Holmes, apologies for summoning you like this. I'm sure it's quite a mystery as to where you are, and who I am...
Sherlock Holmes: As to where I am, I was, admittedly, lost for a moment, between Charing Cross and Holborn, but I was saved by the bread shop on Saffron Hill. The only baker to use a certain French glaze on their loaves - a Brittany sage. After that, the carriage forked left, then right, and then the tell-tale bump at the Fleet Conduit. And as to who you are, that took every ounce of my not-inconsiderable experience. The letters on your desk were addressed to a Sir Thomas Rotherham. Lord Chief Justice, that would be the official title. Who you really are is, of course, another matter entirely. Judging by the sacred ox on your ring, you're the secret head of the Temple of the Four Orders in whose headquarters we now sit, located on the northwest corner of St. James Square, I think. As to the mystery, the only mystery is why you bothered to blindfold me at all.
Irene Adler: Why are you always so suspicious?
Sherlock Holmes: Should I answer chronologically or alphabetically?
Sherlock Holmes: There is a toxin, refined from the nectar of the rhododendron ponticum. It's quite infamous in the region of Turkey bordering the Black Sea for its ability to induce an apparently mortal paralysis. Enough to deceive even a medical mind as tenacious and well-trained as yours. It's known locally as...
Mary Morstan: What's wrong with Gladstone?
Sherlock Holmes: ...mad honey disease. Oh, he's just demonstrating the very effect I've just described. He doesn't mind.
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