You Know My Methods. Apply

I Say, Watson,’ He Whispered, ‘would You Be Afraid To Sleep In The Same Room As A Lunatic, A Man With Softening Of The Brain, An Idiot Whose Mind Has Lost Its Grip?’ ‘not In The Least,’ I Answered In Astonishment. ‘ah, That’s Lucky,’ He Said, And Not Another Word Would He Utter That Night.

My Mind Rebels At Stagnation. Give Me Problems, Give Me Work, Give Me The Most Abstruse Cryptogram, Or The Most Intricate Analysis, And I Am In My Own Proper Atmosphere. But I Abhor The Dull Routine Of Existence. I Crave For Mental Exaltation.

Never Trust To General Impressions, My Boy, But Concentrate Yourself Upon Details.

The Ideal Reasoner, He Remarked, Would, When He Had Once Been Shown A Single Fact In All Its Bearings, Deduce From It Not Only All The Chain Of Events Which Led Up To It But Also All The Results Which Would Follow From It.

Of All Ruins, That Of A Noble Mind Is The Most Deplorable.