Sherlock Holmes Quotes

Dr. John Watson: You've been in this room for two weeks, I insist you have to get out.
Sherlock Holmes: There is absolutely nothing of interest to me, out there, on Earth, at all.
Dr. John Watson: So you're free this evening?
Sherlock Holmes: Absolutely.
Dr. John Watson: Dinner?

Sherlock Holmes: Wonderful.
Dr. John Watson: The Royale?
Sherlock Holmes: My favorite.
Dr. John Watson: Mary's coming.
Sherlock Holmes: Not available.
Dr. John Watson: You're meeting her, Holmes!
Sherlock Holmes: Have you proposed yet?

Dr. John Watson: No, I haven't found the right ring.
Sherlock Holmes: Then it's not official.
Dr. John Watson: It's happening. Whether you like it or not, 8:30, the Royale. Wear a jacket!
Sherlock Holmes: *You* wear a jacket.

Sherlock Holmes: You've never complained about my methods before.
Dr. John Watson: I'm not complaining.
Sherlock Holmes: You're not? What do you call this?
Dr. John 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?
Sherlock Holmes: Uh, we have a barter system...
Dr. John Watson: When have I ever complained about you setting fire to my rooms?
Sherlock Holmes: Our rooms...
Dr. John Watson: The rooms! Or, or, the fact that you experiment on my dog?

Sherlock Holmes: Our dog...
Dr. John Watson: The dog!
Sherlock Holmes: Gladstone is our dog!

[in a bare-knuckle boxing match, Holmes sees Irene and tries to forfeit and leave]
Sherlock Holmes: That's it, big man. You've won, congratulations.
McMurdo: Oi, we ain't done yet!
[He spits at the back of Holmes' head. Holmes stops]
Sherlock Holmes: [voice-over] This mustn't register on an emotional level.
[in

slow motion]
Sherlock Holmes: First, distract target...
[Holmes throws Irene's handerchief in front of McMurdo's face]
Sherlock Holmes: Then block his blind jab... counter with cross to left cheek. Discombobulate.
[slams his hands over McMurdo's ears]
Sherlock Holmes: Dazed, will attempt wild haymaker. Employ

elbow block... and body shot. Block feral left, weaken right jaw... now fracture.
[a cross to the jaw fractures the bone]
Sherlock Holmes: Break cracked ribs. Traumatize solar plexus... dislocate jaw entirely.
[two more body blows, and a right hook to the jaw hinge]
Sherlock Holmes: Heel kick to diaphragm.
[Holmes finishes with a

heel kick to McMurdo's chest, sending him crashing out of the ring]
Sherlock Holmes: In summary: ears ringing, jaw fractured, three ribs cracked, four broken, diaphragm haemmorraging. Physical recovery: six weeks. Full psychological recovery: six months. Capacity to spit at back of head... neutralized.
[Back in real time, Holmes picks up the handkerchief, as though

wiping the back of his neck, then does all of the foregoing in about eight seconds, and kicks McMurdo out of the ring]

[first lines]
Sherlock Holmes: [voice-over] Head cocked to the left, partial deafness in ear: first point of attack. Two: throat; paralyze vocal chords, stop scream. Three: got to be a heavy drinker, floating rib to the liver. Four: finally, drag in left leg, fist to patella. Summary prognosis: unconscious in ninety seconds, martial efficacy quarter of an hour at best. Full

faculty recovery: unlikely.

[Watson and Mary enter Baker Street to find Holmes hanging from a noose]
Dr. John Watson: Don't worry, dear. Suicide is not in his repertoire. He's far too fond of himself for that.
[pokes Holmes sharply]
Dr. John Watson: Holmes!
Sherlock Holmes: [wakes up] Oh, good afternoon. I was attempting to determine the means by

which Blackwood survived his execution - clearing your good name, as it were - but it had a surprisingly soporific effect, and I found myself carried off into the arms of Morpheus like a caterpillar in a cocoon.
[to Mary]
Sherlock Holmes: Good afternoon, dear.
Dr. John Watson: Get on with it, Holmes.
Sherlock Holmes:

Well, cleverly concealed in the hangman's knot was a hook... oh, my, I think my legs have fallen asleep. I should probably come down.
Mary Morstan: John, shouldn't we help him down?
Dr. John Watson: No, no, I hate to cut him off mid-stream. Carry on.
Sherlock Holmes: Well, the executioner attached it to a harness which allowed

the weight to be distributed around the waist and the neck to remain intact. Oh, lord, I can't feel my cheeks. Might we continue this at ground level?
Dr. John Watson: How did you manage it, Holmes?
Sherlock Holmes: I managed it with braces, belts and a coat-hook. Please, Watson, my tongue is going, soon I'll be of no use to you at all.

Dr. John Watson: Worse things could happen.

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.
Sir Thomas: [recovering as best he can] Yes, well... standard procedure, I suppose.

Dr. John Watson: What of Mary?
Palm Reader: M for Mary. For marriage. Oh, you will be married!
Dr. John Watson: [nodding his head slowly] Go on.
Palm Reader: [looking intensely at Watson's palm] Oh, I see pattern tablecloth and... Oh, china figurines and... Ugh! Lace doilies!
Sherlock

Holmes: [pretending to be deep in thought] Mmm... Doilies!
Dr. John Watson: Lace... doilies? Holmes! Does your depravity know no bounds?
Sherlock Holmes: No!
Palm Reader: [continuing her prophecies about Mary] Oh, then she turns fat and, ugh, she has a beard and...
Sherlock Holmes: What of the

warts?
Palm Reader: Ah, she's covered in warts!
Dr. John Watson: [interrupting the palm reader] Enough, enough!
Sherlock Holmes: Are they extensive?
Dr. John Watson: Please, enough!