To let the brain work without sufficient material is like racing an engine. It racks itself to pieces. — Arthur Conan Doyle

Good old Watson! You are the one fixed point in a changing age. There's an east wind coming all the same, such a wind as never blew on England yet. It will be cold and bitter, Watson, and a good many of us may wither before its blast. But it's God's own wind none the less, and a cleaner, better, stronger land will lie in the sunshine when the storm has cleared.

There is but one step from the grotesque to the horrible.

Education never ends Watson. It is a series of lessons with the greatest for the last.