Sherlock 4×0
& Watson: I made it home. Many weren’t so lucky... I need a place to live. Somewhere decent at an affordable price.
& Stamford: It’s an experiment, apparently. Beating corpses to establish how long after death bruising is still possible.
Watson: Is there a medical point to that?
& Sherlock: I have a hanging in Wandsworth and I’d hate them to start without me.
Watson: A hanging?
Sherlock: I take a professional interest. I also play the violin and smoke a pipe. I presume that’s not a problem.
Watson: Er, no, well...
Sherlock: And you’re clearly acclimatized to never getting to the end of a sentence. We’ll get along splendidly.
& Sherlock: Tomorrow evening, seven o’clock, then. Oh, and the name is Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B, Baker Street.
Watson: ??????
Stamford: Yes... he’s always been like that.
& Mrs. Hudson: I never say anything, do I? According to you, I just show people up the stairs and serve you breakfasts.
Watson: Well, within the narrative, that is, broadly speaking, your function.
Mrs. Hudson: My what?! ... I’m your landlady, not a plot device... And you make the rooms so drab and dingy.
& Sherlock: Oh, for God’s sake, give her some lines, she’s perfectly capable of starving us!
& Sherlock: The stage is set, the curtain rises. We are ready to begin.
Watson: Begin what?
Sherlock: Sometimes to solve a case, one must first solve another.
& Sherlock: Fear is wisdom in the face of danger, it is nothing to be ashamed of.
& Emelia Ricoletti: What does it look like, my handsome friend? It’s a shotgun wedding.
Sherlock: ... Till death us do part. Twice in this case.
& Watson: Extraordinary.
Mary: Impossible.
Sherlock: Superb. Suicide as street theatre, murder by corpse. Lestrade, you’re spoiling us.
& Mary: I’m part of a campaign, you know.
Lestrade: Oh, campaign?
Mary: Votes for women.
Lestrade: And— And are you for or against?
Mary: Get out.
& Dr. Hooper: There are two «features of interest», as you are always saying in Dr. Watson’s stories.
Sherlock: I never say that.
Watson: You do, actually, quite a lot.
& Watson: Could it have been twins?
Sherlock: No.
Watson: Why not?
Sherlock: Because
it’s never twins.
& Sherlock: The obliquity of the ecliptic. I have to understand it.
Lestrade: What is it?
Sherlock: I don’t know, I’m still trying to understand it.
Lestrade: I thought you understood everything.
Sherlock: Of course not, that would be an appalling waste of brain space. I specialise.
& Sherlock: Watson! I’m ready. Your hat and boots, we have an important appointment.
Lestrade: Didn’t Dr. Watson move out a few months ago?
Sherlock: He did, didn’t he? Who have I been talking to all this time?
Lestrade: Well, speaking on behalf of the impossibly imbecilic Scotland Yard, that chair is definitely empty.
Sherlock: It is, isn’t it? Works surprisingly well, though. I actually thought he was improving.
& Jane: Oh, I nearly forgot, sir. A telegram came for you.
Watson: You forgot?!
Jane: No, I nearly forgot.
Watson: What have you been doing all morning?
Jane: Reading your new one in The Strand, sir.
Watson: Did you enjoy it?
Jane: Why do you never mention me, sir?
Watson: Go away.
& Watson: The what of the what?
Sherlock: The obliquity of the ecliptic.
Watson: «Come at once,» you said. I assumed it was important.
Sherlock: It is. It’s the inclination of the earth’s equator to the path of the sun on the celestial plane.
& Mycroft: Our way of life is under threat from an invisible enemy. One that hovers at our elbow on a daily basis. These enemies are everywhere... undetected... and unstoppable.
Watson: Socialists?
Mycroft: Not socialists, Doctor, no.
Watson: Anarchists?
Mycroft: No.
Watson: The French? The suffragists?
Mycroft: Is there any large body of people you’re not concerned about?
& Mycroft: I now rely on you to keep an eye on things, but he must never suspect you are working for me. Are you clear on that, Watson?
Mary: You can rely on me, Mr. Holmes.
& Sherlock: You amaze me, Watson.
Watson: I do?
Sherlock: Since when have you had any kind of imagination?
Watson: Perhaps since I convinced the reading public that an unprincipled drug addict was some kind of gentleman hero.
& Sherlock: You may... rest assured there are no ghosts in this world. Save those we make for ourselves.
& Sherlock: We all have a past, Watson. Ghosts. They are the shadows that define our every sunny day.
& Watson: Why are you so determined to be alone?
Sherlock: Are you quite well, Watson?
Watson: Is it such a curious question?
Sherlock: From a Viennese alienist, no. From a retired Army surgeon, most certainly.
& Watson: You’re human, I know that... You must be.
& Watson: Little use us standing here in the dark. After all, this is the 19th century.
& Watson: I saw the ghost, with my own eyes!
Sherlock: You saw nothing! You saw what you were supposed to see!
Watson: You said yourself, I have no imagination.
Sherlock: Then use your brain, such as it is, to eliminate the impossible, which in this case is the ghost, and observe what remains, which in this case is a solution so blindingly obvious even Lestrade could work it out!
& Sherlock: Moriarty is dead.
Mycroft: And yet...?
Sherlock: His body was never recovered.
Mycroft: To be expected when one pushes a maths professor over a waterfall. Pure reason toppled by sheer melodrama. Your life in a nutshell.
& Moriarty: Did you know that dust is largely composed of human skin?
Sherlock: Yes.
Moriarty: Doesn’t taste the same, though, you want your skin fresh. Just a little crispy.
& Moriarty: Dead... is the new sexy.
& Moriarty: It’s not the fall that kills you, Sherlock. Of all people, you should know that, it’s not the fall, it’s never the fall. It’s the landing!
& Mary: You’ve been reading John’s blog. The story of how you met.
Sherlock: It helps me if I see myself through his eyes sometimes. I’m so much cleverer.
& Sherlock: I’m not an addict, I’m a user.
& Watson: For God’s sake! This could kill you! You could die!
Sherlock: Controlled usage is not usually fatal and abstinence is not immortality.
& Watson: Now, tell me, morphine or cocaine?
& Watson: I’m an army doctor, which means I could break every bone in your body while naming them.
& Watson: Not that one! This one.
Sherlock: Why?
Watson: You’re Sherlock Holmes. Wear the damn hat.
& Sherlock: Every great cause has martyrs. Every war has suicide missions and make no mistake, this is war. One half of the human race at war with the other. The invisible army hovering at our elbow, tending to our homes, raising our children... Ignored, patronised, disregarded. Not allowed so much as a vote. But an army nonetheless, ready to rise up in the best of causes. To put right an injustice as old as humanity itself.
& Sherlock: Mycroft was right. This is a war we must lose.
& Sherlock: Once the idea exists, it cannot be killed.
& Watson: When you’re ready to go to work, give me a call. I’m taking Mary home.
Mary: You’re what?
Watson: Mary’s taking me home.
Mary: Better.
& Sherlock: This? Oh, I see. Still not awake, am I?
& Sherlock: Moriarty’s dead!
Moriarty: Not in your mind. I’ll never be dead there. You once called your brain a hard drive. Well, say hello to the virus.
& Moriarty: That’s not fair, there’s two of you!
& Sherlock: Between you and me, John, I always survive a fall.
Watson: But how?
Sherlock: Elementary, my dear Watson.
& Watson: Sherlock, hang on, explain. Moriarty’s alive, then?
Sherlock: I never said he was alive, I said he was back.
& Sherlock: Moriarty is dead, no question. But more importantly, I know exactly what he’s going to do next...
& Watson: Flying machines, these, er, telephone contraptions? What sort of lunatic fantasy is that?
Sherlock: It was simply my conjecture of what a future world might look like and how you and I might fit inside it. From a drop of water a logician should be able to infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara.
Watson: Or a Reichenbach?
+ quotes on the IMDb
& — Зацикливание на прошлом может привести к депрессии. Я разрешаю вам вообще никогда и ни при каких обстоятельствах не думать о том, что было раньше... Просто сосредоточьтесь на будущем и на новых людях, которых вы встретите.