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: Yes, well... standard procedure, I suppose.
出自電影《神探福爾摩斯》 的經典對白。
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Sherlock Holmes: You have the grand gift of silence, Watson; it makes you quite invaluable as a companion.
Dr. John Watson: Why is the only woman you've cared about a world class criminal? Are you a masochist?
Sherlock Holmes: It's a matter of professional integrity! No girl wants to marry a doctor who can't tell if a man's dead or not!
Sherlock Holmes: My mind rebels at stagnation! Give me problems! Give me work!
Lord Coward: How terrible is wisdom, when it brings no profit to the wise.
Groundskeeper: And when the dead walk... the living will fill these coffins.
Palm Reader: I see two men. Two men. Brothers! Not in blood, but in bond.
Sherlock Holmes: Data, data, data. I cannot make bricks without clay.
Sherlock Holmes: Woman! Shoot him! Now, please!
Dr. John Watson: She loves an entrance, your muse.
Sherlock Holmes: And he said, "May I push in your stool?"
Sherlock Holmes: One for the doctor; one for the rope!
Sherlock Holmes: There was never any magic. Merely conjuring tricks.
Sherlock Holmes: Thre's nothing more elusive than an obvious fact.
Sherlock Holmes: My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me work! The sooner the better.
Sherlock Holmes: You'd better hope it's just superstition, as you performed all the rituals perfectly. The Devil's due a soul, I'd say...
Sherlock Holmes: Data, data, data! I cannot make bricks without clay!
Sir Thomas: He was conceived during one of our rituals.
Sherlock Holmes: You have the grand gift of silence, Watson; it makes you quite invaluable as a companion.
Dr. John Watson: Get that out of my face. Sherlock Holmes: It's not in your face, it's in my hand. Dr. John Watson: Get what's in your hand out of my face.
Sherlock Holmes: Never theorize before you have data. Invariably, you end up twisting facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts.
Sherlock Holmes: 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.
Dr. John Watson: Why is the only woman you've cared about a world class criminal? Are you a masochist?
Sherlock Holmes: That's it, big man. You've won, congratulations. McMurdo: Oi, we ain't done yet! Sherlock Holmes: This mustn't register on an emotional level. Sherlock Holmes: First, distract target... Sherlock Holmes: Then block his blind jab... counter with cross to left cheek. Discombobulate. Sherlock Holmes: Dazed, will attempt wild haymaker. Employ elbow block... and body shot. Block feral left, weaken right jaw... now fracture. Sherlock Holmes: Break cracked ribs. Traumatize solar plexus... dislocate jaw entirely. Sherlock Holmes: Heel kick to diaphragm. 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.
Sherlock Holmes: It's a matter of professional integrity! No girl wants to marry a doctor who can't tell if a man's dead or not!
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: 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: Go on. Palm Reader: Oh, I see pattern tablecloth and... Oh, china figurines and... Ugh! Lace doilies! Sherlock Holmes: Mmm... Doilies! Dr. John Watson: Lace... doilies? Holmes! Does your depravity know no bounds? Sherlock Holmes: No! Palm Reader: 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: Enough, enough! Sherlock Holmes: Are they extensive? Dr. John Watson: Please, enough!
Sherlock Holmes: My mind rebels at stagnation! Give me problems! Give me work!
Sherlock Holmes: And chambermaids were once such a liberal breed. Constable Clark: My wife's a chambermaid, sir. Constable Clark: Anyhow, it's a good thing she was offended, sir. Otherwise we'd never have found you. Sherlock Holmes: Yes. Constable Clark: Just joking about the wife, sir. Sherlock Holmes: Ah!
Inspector Lestrade: That's not Blackwood! Sherlock Holmes: Well, now we have a firm grasp of the obvious.
Dr. John Watson: Don't worry, dear. Suicide is not in his repertoire. He's far too fond of himself for that. Dr. John Watson: Holmes! Sherlock Holmes: 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. 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.
Dr. John Watson: Permission to enter the armory? Sherlock Holmes: Granted. Sherlock Holmes: Watson, I am in the process of inventing a device which muffles the sound of a gunshot. Dr. John Watson: It's not working.
Sherlock Holmes: There is a toxin, refined from the nectar of the rhododendron ponticum. It's quite infamous in the region of Turkey bordering the Black Sea for its ability to induce an apparently mortal paralysis. Enough to deceive even a medical mind as tenacious and well-trained as yours. It's known locally as... Mary Morstan: What's wrong with Gladstone? Sherlock Holmes: ...mad honey disease. Oh, he's just demonstrating the very effect I've just described. He doesn't mind.
Sherlock Holmes: Un moment, s'il vous plait. Dredger: Je ne suis pas pressé.
Dr. John Watson: Relax. I'm a doctor.
Dr. John Watson: Holmes? What is that? Sherlock Holmes: Je ne sais pas.
Sherlock Holmes: Case re-opened.
Lord Blackwood: Sherlock Holmes... and his loyal dog. Tell me, Doctor, as a medical man, have you enjoyed my work? Dr. John Watson: Let me show you how much I've enjoyed it... Sherlock Holmes: Watson, don't! Observe... Dr. John Watson: How did you see that? Sherlock Holmes: Because I was looking for it.
Lord Coward: How terrible is wisdom, when it brings no profit to the wise.
Groundskeeper: And when the dead walk... the living will fill these coffins.
Palm Reader: I see two men. Two men. Brothers! Not in blood, but in bond.
Sherlock Holmes: Watson, what have you done?
Sherlock Holmes: Data, data, data. I cannot make bricks without clay.
Sherlock Holmes: Woman! Shoot him! Now, please!
Sherlock Holmes: You have the grand gift of silence, Watson; it makes you quite invaluable as a companion.
Dr. John Watson: Why is the only woman you've cared about a world class criminal? Are you a masochist?
Palm Reader: I see two men. Two men. Brothers! Not in blood, but in bond.
Sherlock Holmes: Woman! Shoot him! Now, please!
Irene Adler: Why are you always so suspicious? Sherlock Holmes: Should I answer chronologically or alphabetically?
Inspector Lestrade: You know, in another life, you'd have made an excellent criminal. Sherlock Holmes: Yes, and you, sir, an excellent policeman.
Dr. John Watson: You really believe he was resurrected? Sherlock Holmes: The question is not if but how. The game's afoot. Dr. John Watson: "Follow your spirit..." Dr. John Watson, Sherlock Holmes: "And upon this charge, cry, 'God for Harry, England and St. George!'"
Sherlock Holmes: What of the coffin, Lestrade? Inspector Lestrade: Well, we are in the process of bringing it up. Sherlock Holmes: Indeed? What stage of the process? Contemplative?
Inspector Lestrade: Excuse me, my lord. I know it's unorthodox, but Mr. Holmes here has been making some serious accusations about you... Inspector Lestrade: ...and the Order, sir. Lord Coward: I see. Sherlock Holmes: Well, at least that solves the great mystery of how you became Inspector. Inspector Lestrade: Begging your pardon, my lord, but I've been wanting to do that for a long time.
Sherlock Holmes: There's only at one case that intrigues me at present. The curious case of Mrs. Hudson, the absentee landlady. I've been studying her comings and goings, they appear most... sinister. Mrs. Hudson: Tea, Mr. Holmes? Sherlock Holmes: Is it poisoned, Nanny? Mrs. Hudson: There's enough of that in you already.
Sherlock Holmes: Don't touch. Everything is in its proper place... as per usual, Nanny. Mrs. Hudson: Oh, he's killed the dog. Again. Dr. John Watson: What have you done to Gladstone now? Sherlock Holmes: I was simply testing a new anesthetic. He doesn't mind.
Dr. John Watson: Mrs Hudson. Mrs. Hudson: I won't go in there by myself, not while he's got a gun in his hand! Dr. John Watson: You don't have to go in there at all. Mrs. Hudson: What will I do when you leave, doctor? He'll have the whole house down! Dr. John Watson: He just needs another case, that's all.
Sherlock Holmes: Have the newspapers got wind of it yet? Constable Clark: Well, that's what we're trying to avoid, sir. Sherlock Holmes: Certainly. What's the major concern? Constable Clark: Panic. Sheer bloody panic, sir.
Mary Morstan: It does seem a little far-fetched, though. Making all these grand assumptions based on such tiny details... Sherlock Holmes: Mm, that's not quite right, is it? In fact, the little details are by far the most important.
