Nicholas RoweQuotes

John Watson: What have I got myself into?

Sherlock Holmes: The adventure of a lifetime, Watson.

Sherlock Holmes: [after defeating Professor Rathe/Eh Tar, only to discover that Elizabeth is fatally wounded thanks to Rathe/Eh Tar shooting her] Someday we'll be reunited. In another world, a much better world.

Elizabeth Hardy: [dies] I'll be waiting. And you'll be late... as always.

John Watson: [working out a riddle about seeing a bear from a room with an all-southern view, which has been recurring throughout the movie] Holmes, wait! I know why the bear is white!

Sherlock Holmes: And why is that, Watson?

John Watson: Well, the only room with an all-southern view would be at the North Pole. It's a polar bear!

Sherlock Holmes: Bravo, Watson. You have the makings of a great detective.

Sherlock Holmes: [hands Lestrade two obituaries] Just have a quick look at these.

Lestrade: A suicide and a carriage accident.

Sherlock Holmes: I suspect foul play.

Lestrade: Why? The two instances are completely unrelated.

Sherlock Holmes: Wrong. Both men graduated from the same university in 1809.

Lestrade: Coincidence.

Sherlock Holmes: Neither of their deaths fit their personalities. According to his obituary, Bobster was a happy man, content with his life, his career, his family. Why would he commit suicide? He didn't even leave a note. And Reverend Nesbitt is described by friends as "warm, loving, peaceful". And yet the carriage driver insists that he was crazed, insane, in a state of panic when he ran out into the street.

Lestrade: Holmes, a mere fluctuation of character is hardly sufficient evidence to begin an investigation. And if you want my advice, you'll keep your nose out of the Times and into your schoolbooks.

Sherlock Holmes: [Lestrade shakes his head as Holmes tips out the contents of a small container; the contents are some of the poison darts used against Rathe's enemies, which were also used on him, Watson and Elizabeth] I appreciate your time, Mr. Lestrade. I suggest you hold onto these. If I were a detective sergeant trapped in this room all day up to my neck in boring paperwork, I would be doing everything in my power to seek out that one case, that one investigation that could promote me to inspector.

Lestrade: [irately] Good day, Holmes.

Sherlock Holmes: You're sitting in a room with an all-southern view. Suddenly, a bear walks by the window. What colour is the bear?

John Watson: Red! The bear is red!

Sherlock Holmes: Why on Earth would the bear be red?

John Watson: The southern sun is very hot. The bear would be terribly burnt!

Sherlock Holmes: [laughs] That is the most absurd answer I've ever heard.

Lestrade: I despise your arrogance.

Sherlock Holmes: And I despise your laziness.

Sherlock Holmes: A great detective relies on perception, intelligence, and imagination.

Lestrade: [amused] Where'd you get that rubbish from?

Sherlock Holmes: It's framed on the wall behind you.

Sherlock Holmes: Sherlock Holmes, jealous? My dear, that word does not enter my vocabulary.

Elizabeth Hardy: Neither does punctuality.

John Watson: I can't afford to jeopardise my medical career!

Sherlock Holmes: Weasel.

John Watson: I'm not a weasel. I am... practical.

Sherlock Holmes: Weasels are practical. And I imagined you courageous and stout of heart.

John Watson: I am courageous. And I'm stout of heart. It's just that... oh, all right. I'll do it.

Older Watson: [narrating] It was the beginning of my second week at Brompton. With each passing day, my fascination with Sherlock Holmes and his world continued to grow. On this occasion, the entire school was bursting with excitement. Dudley had challenged Holmes to a test of ingenuity, skill, and perception. Dudley had snatched the school's fencing trophy and hidden it in a secret place. He gave Holmes sixty minutes to find the trophy. Holmes accepted the challenge with confidence.

Sherlock Holmes: The game is afoot!

Sherlock Holmes: You're the new boy.

John Watson: Yes, I transferred from another school. My name is...

Sherlock Holmes: [observes him for a moment] Wait - let me. Your name is James Watson. You're from the north of England, your father is a doctor, you spend a considerable amount of leisure time writing, and you have a particular fondness for custard tarts. Am I correct?

John Watson: My name isn't James, it's John.

Sherlock Holmes: James, John - what's the difference?

John Watson: A great deal!

Sherlock Holmes: Very well, so your name is John. How did I do on the others?

John Watson: You were correct. On every count. How is it done? Is it some sort of magic trick?

Sherlock Holmes: [chuckles] No magic, Watson. Pure and simple deduction. The name-tag on your mattress reads "J Watson". I selected the most common name that begins with "J" - "James". Or "John", that would have been my second choice.

John Watson: Of course.

Sherlock Holmes: Your particular style of shoes are not made in the city. I've only encountered them once before during a brief visit to the north of England. The middle finger of your left hand is indented with a callus, the trademark of a writer. And you were carrying The Hunter's Encyclopedia of Disease - a handbook not available to the general public, only to practising physicians. Since someone of your age obviously hasn't been to medical school, I concluded that it was given to you by an older person, someone very dear to you who is concerned for your health: your father, the doctor.

John Watson: And the custard tarts?

Sherlock Holmes: Simple. There's a distinct stain of yellow custard on your lapel. That particular colour of custard is used in the making of custard tarts, and, uh... well, your shape convinced me you've eaten many of them before.

John Watson: There's no need to be rude!

J: [discussing their careers as marijuana growers] I've a strong suspicion we should have been rocket scientists, or Nobel Peace Prize winners … or something.

Charles: Peace Prize? Be lucky to find your penis for a piss the amount you keep smoking.