Sherlock Quotes Novels & Stories

I couldn’t help but chuckle, a smug smile curling at my lips. "I gave you an easier solution. Just kill him," I said with a nonchalant shrug of my shoulder. "Well, Sherlock, it’s not that simple. He’s a powerful man too," Hudson scowled, his irritation evident. "I can still kill him," I added, my tone ice-cold and devoid of empathy. "And then you’ll just give me more problems and headaches, like I don't have enough already. I told you to keep things low," he retorted sarcastically, frustration seething in his voice.

He’s perspiring buckets when he asked again, “Sir, what happened there?” And like the 17 times he asked, 17 times there wasn’t any reply. That happened a few times before, so Bright didn’t really attribute that to anything rather other than him having found out some really critical information. Bright waited patiently minding his inaudible Ps and Qs to not overstep the mark secured by a portcullis guarding his Sherlockian mind palace. After a few moments more of Bright camping the premises, the hydraulic winches started releasing the drawbridge to what August was envisioning.

Sherlock on the other hand tried doing the same thing, trying to free himself from the shackles. "That won't work, I recommend you just sit down and wait patiently for your punishment." Victor's cold voice interrupted their foolishness and that was when they noticed their surroundings. They saw Jordan and their jaws dropped. "What the fûck are you doing here?!" Sherlock shouted in shock while Xavier looked dumbfounded. "Are you scared to see your accomplice, pest?" Victor mocked and Sherlock's head snapped to his direction. "Who the fûck are you calling a pest?! Untie me right now and we will see if you can still talk." He said arrogantly and Victor scoffed.

Sherlock Holmes** is a fictional character created by Scottish Author and Physician, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, a graduate of the University of Edinburgh Medical School. He is a London-based “consulting detective” whose abilities border on the fantastic. Holmes is known for his astute logical reasoning, his ability to adapt almost any disguise, and his use of forensic science to solve difficult cases.

“When the mouth eats, the nose taste the food first. Mouth by itself cannot taste much. Like this, if you have weak perception, you cannot penetrate to the deeper meaning. Is like cutting off your nose. Keeping your senses blunt. Maybe you don’t want to taste the truth. Afraid of deeper forces. You walk a dangerous path. Like a blind man on a cliff. Only if you feel the wind, do you step right . . . You have been in danger today.” I remember dangling from the roof and my stomach lurches. But hey, this is all mumbo jumbo. “No shit, Sherlock,” I say with a grin. Lily Lao laughs and I can’t help joining her. When it peters out, I decide to go for broke. Why not? This is all pretty opaque, and m

“But we’re not leaving them any clues and how can they work out what really happened if we don’t actually know ourselves.” “Look, it’s like Sacheverell Sitwell said . . . ” “Not this old quote again, you got that from Cold Hand in Mine. I read Aickman too you know.” “Good for you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t bear repeating. ‘In the end it is the mystery that lasts and not the explanation.’” “Why can’t we just have a proper ending for once?”

Okay. "Why are they here?" I asked in awe as we pass by different sections. "To train, sherlock." He snapped. I glared at the back of his head and gritted my teeth. "Why the 'fudge' are you pissed with me?" "Why the 'fudge' are you annoying me?" He mocks me. We continued walking straight ahead, we passed through this metal tunnel, and a lot of sections. "I can't believe that you're a Sanders." I heard him whispered.

he sat on the bed, winking at me. I smiled and scooted closer to him. "You are the best PI I know." He chuckled. "I am the only PI, you know." "Nah, Sherlock Holmes, Rick Castle, Hercule Poirot, Philip Marlowe, Nancy Drew." I listed off, my love for books and series overflowing with every word. Dad ruffled my hair, "No comparing to fictional characters, you know that." I grinned. "I know."

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. By your rules, I don’t think i’m meant to be anywhere other than my room” His eyes darkened immediately, and boy oh boy did I soon realize that I should never have said that.

"Did you just see a ghost, or is the floor sticky?" "Nothing," I muttered, my voice rougher than usual, my cheeks heating up. I was suddenly, mortifyingly aware that I had probably been staring at him with the wide-eyed, vacant intensity of an absolute lunatic. "You are definitely new," she confirmed, a definite smirk playing on her lips, her eyes tracing the exact path my own had just taken. I rolled my eyes dramatically, trying to regain my composure and the brittle shield of sarcasm. "Thanks for the insight, Sherlock. I appreciate your expert deductive skills."