One Must Wait Till It Comes.

A Sandwich And A Cup Of Coffee, And Then Off To Violin-land, Where All Is Sweetness And Delicacy And Harmony.

I Consider That A Man's Brain Originally Is Like A Little Empty Attic, And You Have To Stock It With Such Furniture As You Choose. [...] It Is A Mistake To Think That That Little Room Has Elastic Walls And Can Distend To Any Extent. [...] It Is Of The Highest Importance, Therefore, Not To Have Useless Facts Elbowing Out The Useful Ones.

The Future Was With Fate. The Present Was Our Own.

Sherlock Holmes Took His Bottle From The Corner Of The Mantel-piece, And His Hypodermic Syringe From Its Neat Morocco Case. With His Long, White, Nervous Fingers He Adjusted The Delicate Needle, And Rolled Back His Left Shirt-cuff. For Some Little Time His Eyes Rested Thoughtfully Upon The Sinewy Forearm And Wrist, All Dotted And Scarred With Innumerable Puncture-marks. Finally, He Thrust The Sharp Point Home, Pressed Down The Tiny Piston, And Sank Back Into The Velvet-lined Armchair With A Long Sigh Of Satisfaction.

“how Ever Did You See That?” “because I Looked For It.”