Arthur Conan Doyle Quotes

Enjoy the top 885 famous quotes, sayings and quotations by Arthur Conan Doyle.

Arthur Conan Doyle Quotes

Then away out in the woods I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it wants to tell about something thats on its mind and cant make itself understood, and so cant rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that way every night grieving.
As you value your life or your reason keep away from the moor.
— Arthur Conan Doyle —

My mind," he said, "rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants. But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation. That is why I have chosen my own particular profession, or rather created it, for I am the only one in the world.

— Arthur Conan Doyle

I am a brain, Watson. The rest of me is a mere appendix.

— Arthur Conan Doyle

You have done all the work in this business. I get a wife out of it, Jones gets the credit, pray what remains for you?"
"For me," said Sherlock Holmes, "there still remains the cocaine bottle.

— Arthur Conan Doyle

Watson: "You may be right."
Holmes: "The probability lies in that direction.

— Arthur Conan Doyle

A strange enigma is man

— Arthur Conan Doyle

Now, Watson,' said Holmes, ( ... ) 'you'll come with me, won't you?'
'If I can be of use.'
'Oh, a trusty comrade is always of use. And a chronicler still more so. My room at The Cedars is a double-bedded one.'
( ... )
'You have a grand gift of silence, Watson,' said he. 'It makes you quite invaluable as a companion. Pon my word, it is a great thing for me to have someone to talk to, for my own thoughts are not over-pleasant.

— Arthur Conan Doyle

Over the green squares of the fields and the low curves of a wood there rose in the distance a grey, melancholy hill, with a strange jagged summit, dim and vague in the distance like some fantastic landscape in a dream. Baskerville sat for a long time, his gaze fixed upon it, and I read upon his eager face how much it meant to him, this first sight of that strange spot where the men of his blood had held sway so long and left their mark so deep.

— Arthur Conan Doyle

Very sorry to knock you up, Watson,' said he [Holmes], 'but it is a common lot this morning. Mrs Hudson has been knocked up, she retorted upon me, and I on you.

— Arthur Conan Doyle

And to what end?" she asked sharply. "If you are, as I understand, to shut yourself forever in your cell within the four walls of an abbey, then of what use would it be were your prayer to be answered?" "The use of my own salvation." She turned from him with a pretty shrug and wave. "Is that all?" she said. "Then you are no better than Father Christopher and the rest of them. Your own, your own, ever your own! My father is the king's man, and when he rides into the press of fight he is not thinking ever of the saving of his own poor body; he recks little enough if he leave it on the field. Why then should you, who are soldiers of the Spirit, be ever moping or hiding in cell or in cave, with minds full of your own concerns, while the world, which you should be mending, is going on its way, and neither sees nor hears you? Were ye all as thoughtless of your own souls as the soldier is of his body, ye would be of more avail to the souls of others." "There

— Arthur Conan Doyle

That was it, sir.

— Arthur Conan Doyle

Where the real sex feeling begins, timidity and distrust are its companions, heritage from old wicked days when love and violence went often hand in hand. The bent head, the averted eye, the faltering voice, the wincing figure-these, and not the unshrinking gaze and frank reply, are the true signals of passion. Even in my short life I had learned as much as that-or had inherited it in that race memory which we call instinct.

— Arthur Conan Doyle

Goethe is always pithy.

— Arthur Conan Doyle

Then away out in the woods I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it wants to tell about something that's on its mind and can't make itself understood, and so can't rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that way every night grieving.
As you value your life or your reason keep away from the moor.

— Arthur Conan Doyle

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