& Moriarty: ’Hello. My name’s Jim Moriarty. Welcome to the final problem.’
& Watson: Well, don’t worry, there’s a place for people like you, the desperate, the terrified. The ones with nowhere else to run...
Mycroft: What place?
Watson: 221B Baker Street. See you in the morning. If there’s a queue, join it.
& Watson: You might want to close that window. There is an east wind coming.
& Mrs. Hudson: You have to sit in the chair. They won’t talk to you unless you sit in the chair. It’s the rules!
& Mrs. Hudson: Would you like a cup of tea?
& Mycroft: Eurus, she was incandescent, even then. Our abilities were professionally assessed more than once. I was remarkable, but Eurus was described as an era-defining genius. Beyond Newton.
& Watson: Oscar Wilde. He said, «The truth is rarely pure and never simple». It’s from The Importance Of Being Earnest.
& Mycroft: That’s the trouble with uniforms and name badges, people stop looking at faces.
& Eurus: There’s no such thing as bad.
— What about good?
Eurus: Good and bad are fairytales. We have evolved to attach an emotional significance to what is nothing more than a survival strategy of the pack animal. We are conditioned to invest divinity in utility. Good isn’t really good, evil isn’t really wrong, bottoms aren’t really pretty. You are a prisoner of your own meat.
— Why aren’t you?
Eurus: I’m too clever.
& Eurus: Oh! This is going to be such a good day...
& Eurus: Smiling is advertising.
& Eurus: Happiness is a pop song. Sadness is a poem.
& Eurus: The man who sees through everything is exactly the man who doesn’t notice... when there’s nothing to see through.
& Moriarty: Big G. Big G means Governor. Street speak.
& Moriarty: Whatever you’re about to tell me... I already know it’s going to be... awesome!
& Moriarty: I’m your Christmas present.
& Watson: Did you see your sister?
Sherlock: Yes.
Watson: How was that?
Sherlock: Family is always difficult.
& Eurus: I’m particularly focused on internal conflicts, where strategising around a largely-intuitive moral code appears to create a counterintuitive result.
& Watson: Do you want to pray or anything?
David: With Eurus Holmes in the world, who the hell would I pray to?
& Moriarty: ’Come on now, all aboard! Choo-choo! Choo-choo! Choo-choo!...’
& Watson: Today, we have to be soldiers, Mycroft, soldiers. And that means to hell with what happens to us!
& Eurus: I’m now focusing on the difference to your mental capacity a specified consequence can make.
& Eurus: Emotional context, Sherlock, it destroys you every time.
& Sherlock: This isn’t torture, this is vivisection. We’re experiencing science from the perspective of lab rats.
& Eurus: ...family or friend. Mycroft or John Watson?
& Mycroft: Well, I suppose there is a heart somewhere inside me. I don’t imagine it’s much of a target, but why don’t we try for that?
& Mycroft: Goodbye, brother mine. No flowers. My request.
& Eurus: Sherlock Holmes, it’s time to solve the Musgrave ritual. Your very first case, and the final problem.
& Eurus: Emotional context. And heeeeere it comes.
& Watson: Is this strictly relevant?!
& Police Officer: Is that him, sir, Sherlock Holmes?
Lestrade: Fan, are you?
Police Officer: Well, he’s a great man, sir.
Lestrade: No, he’s better than that. He’s a good one.
& Mary: ....When all else fails, there are two men sitting arguing in a scruffy flat like they’ve always been there, and they always will. The best and wisest men I have ever known. My Baker Street boys. Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson.
& Watson: Why? Why is it understandable? Why does everything have to be understandable? Why can’t some things be unacceptable and we just say that?
& Watson: No, if Sherlock Holmes wants to get in touch, that’s not something you can fail to notice.
& Smith: What’s the very worst thing you can do to your very best friends?... Tell them your darkest secret. Because if you tell them and they decide they’d rather not know, you can’t take it back. You can’t unsay it. Once you’ve opened your heart, you can’t close it again.
& Smith: If you think about it, civilisation has always depended on a measure of elective ignorance.
& Smith: I have a need to confess, but you, I think, might have a need to forget.
& Faith: Ignorance is bliss...
Smith: Well, what’s wrong with bliss?
& Sherlock: Well, I’m very busy at the moment, I have to drink a cup of tea.
& Sherlock: If steeply angled sunlight manages to hit eye level on the wall opposite the window, then what do we know about the room?.. The room’s small.
& Mycroft: Everybody dies. It’s the one thing human beings can be relied upon to do. How can it still come as a surprise to people?
& Faith: Well, that’s interesting. The way you think.
Sherlock: Superbly?
Faith: Sweetly.
Sherlock: I’m not sweet, I’m just high.
& Sherlock: Taking your own life. Interesting expression, taking it from who? Once it’s over, it’s not you who’ll miss it. Your own death is something that happens to everybody else. Your life is not your own. Keep your hands off it!
& Watson: What’s happened?
Mrs. Hudson: It’s Sherlock! You’ve no idea what I’ve been through!..
& Watson: Did you call the police?
Mrs. Hudson: Of course I didn’t call the police, I’m not a civilian!
& Watson: Whose car is that?
Mrs. Hudson: That’s my car.
Watson: How can that be your car?!
Mrs. Hudson: Oh, for God’s sake! I’m the widow of a drug dealer, I own property in central London, and for the last bloody time, John, I’m not your housekeeper!
& Mrs. Hudson: Is Molly the right person to be doing medicals? She’s more used to dead people.
& Mrs. Hudson: You’re going to have to buck up a bit, John, you know that, don’t you? The game is on.
Watson: I’ll do my best.
Mrs. Hudson: Anything you need, any time, just ask, anything at all.
Watson: Thank you. Er... sometimes... can I borrow your car?
Mrs. Hudson: No.
Watson: OK.
& Mary: ...And you are done with the world being explained to you by a man. Well, who isn’t?
& Mary: I’m in your head, John. You’re disagreeing with yourself.
& Mary: He is the cleverest man in the world, but he’s not a monster.
Watson: Yeah, he is.
Mary: Yeah, OK, all right, he is. Agh! But he’s our monster.
& Molly: For Christ’s sake, Sherlock, it’s not a game!
Sherlock: I’m worried about you, Molly, you seem very stressed.
Molly: I’m stressed, you’re dying!
Sherlock: Yeah, well, I’m ahead, then. Stress can ruin every day of your life. Dying can only ruin one.
& Smith: I don’t do handshakes. It’ll have to be a hug.
Sherlock: I know.
& Smith: Breakfast has got to be cool... And you know what makes it cool when you’re a kid?.. Dangerous!
& Sherlock: Brilliant, isn’t it?.. The safest place to hide. Plain sight.
& Smith: What do you think, Mr Holmes? Cereal killer?
& Smith: We’re going to have endless fun, Mr Holmes, aren’t we?
Sherlock: Oh, no. No, not endless.
& Sherlock: The main feature of interest in the field of criminal investigation is not the sensational aspects of the crime itself, but rather the iron chain of reasoning, from cause to effect, that reveals, step by step, the solution. That’s the only truly remarkable aspect of the entire affair.
& Mary: You should be wearing the hat. The kids would love the hat.
& Smith: Money, power, fame, some hings make you untouchable. God save the Queen! She could open a slaughterhouse and we’d all probably pay the entrance fee.
Watson: No-one’s untouchable.
Smith: No-one?
& Smith: Dead people... look like things.
& Smith: If you’re rich or famous and... loved, it’s amazing what people are prepared to ignore.
& Sherlock: Must be something comforting about the number three, people always give up after three.
& Sherlock: Are you OK?
Watson: What, am I...? No, no, I’m not OK. I’m never going to be OK. And we’ll just have to accept that. It is what it is, and what it is is... shit.
& Watson: Happy birthday.
Sherlock: Thank you, John, that’s... very kind of you.
& Sherlock: As I think I have explained to you many times before, romantic entanglement, while fulfilling for other people...
Watson: Would complete you as a human being.
Sherlock: That doesn’t even mean anything.
& Watson: Just text her, phone her, do something while there’s still a chance, because that chance doesn’t last forever. Trust me, Sherlock, it’s gone before you know it. Before you know it!
& Watson: I’m not the man you thought I was, I’m not that guy. I never could be. But that’s the point. That’s the whole point. Who you thought I was... is the man who I want to be.
& Sherlock: It’s OK.
Watson: It’s not OK.
Sherlock: No... but it is what it is.
& Sherlock: It’s not a pleasant thought, John, but I have this terrible feeling from time to time that we might all just be human.
Watson: Even you?
Sherlock: No. Even you.
& Mycroft: What you’re about to see is classified beyond top secret.
& Mycroft: Will you take this matter seriously, Sherlock?
Sherlock: I am taking it seriously! What makes you think I’m not taking it seriously?
Mycroft: «#OhWhatABeautifulMorning»?
& Porlock: You’re high as a kite!
Sherlock: Natural high, I assure you. Totally natural.
& Porlock: Perhaps he was just trying to frighten you.
Sherlock: No, no, he would never be that disappointing. He’s planned something, something long-term. Something that would take effect if he never made it off that rooftop alive. Posthumous revenge. No, better than that — posthumous game.
& Lady Smallwood: What are you going to do?
Sherlock: Wait.
Lady Smallwood: Wait?!
Sherlock: Of course wait. I’m the target — targets wait.
& Sherlock: Look, whatever’s coming, whatever he’s lined up, I’ll know when it begins. I always know when the game is on. Do you know why?
Lady Smallwood: Why?
Sherlock: Because I love it.
& Watson: So, basically, your plan is just to sit there solving crimes like you always do?
Sherlock: Awesome, isn’t it?
& Watson: Sherlock...
Sherlock: It’s never twins.
& Watson: And, uh... you too, Sherlock?
Sherlock: You too what?
Watson: Godfather, we’d like you to be godfather.
Sherlock: God is a ludicrous fiction, dreamt up by inadequates who abnegate all responsibility to an invisible magic friend.
Watson: Yeah, but there’ll be cake. Will you do it?
Sherlock: I’ll get back to you.
& Watson: ...Rosamund Mary.
Sherlock: Rosamund?
Molly: It means «Rose of the world». Rosie for short. Didn’t you get John’s text?
Sherlock: No. I delete his texts. I delete any text that begins «Hi.»
& Sherlock: As ever, Watson, you see but do not observe. To you, the world remains an impenetrable mystery, whereas, to me, it is an open book. Hard logic versus romantic whimsy — that is your choice. You fail to connect actions to their consequences. Now, for the last time, if you want to keep the rattle, do not throw the rattle.
& Watson: ...The body in the car, dead for a week.
Sherlock: Oh, this is a good one. Is it my birthday? You want help?
Lestrade: Yes, please.
Sherlock: OK. One condition. Take all the credit. It gets boring if I just solve them all.
Lestrade: Yeah, you say that, but then John blogs about it, and you get all the credit anyway...
& Watson: It’s obvious though, isn’t it, what happened?
Sherlock: John, you amaze me. You know what happened?
Watson: Not a clue. It’s just you normally say that at this point.
& Sherlock: Not sure, I just... By the pricking of my thumbs.
Watson: Seriously? You?
Sherlock: Intuitions are not to be ignored, John. They represent data processed too fast for the conscious mind to comprehend.
& Watson: Mrs Welsborough, my apologies. It is worth letting him do this.
Mrs Welsborough: Is your friend quite mad?
Watson: No, he’s an arsehole, but it’s an easy mistake.
& Sherlock: I know what happened to your son.
Mrs Welsborough: You do?
Sherlock: It’s quite simple, superficial, to be blunt.
& Lestrade: How did you notice that?
Sherlock: I lack the arrogance to ignore details. I’m not the police.
& Sherlock: I can’t stand it, never can. There’s a loose thread in the world.
Watson: It doesn’t mean you have to pull on it.
Sherlock: What kind of a life would that be?
& Sherlock: That’s mine. You two take a... bus.
Watson: Why?
Sherlock: I need to concentrate, and I don’t want to hit you.
& Sherlock: Maybe it’s Moriarty. Maybe it’s not. But something’s coming...
Mycroft: Are you having a premonition, brother mine?
Sherlock: The world is woven from billions of lives, every strand crossing every other. What we call premonition is just movement of the web. If you could attenuate to every strand of quivering data, the future would be entirely calculable. As inevitable as mathematics.
& Mycroft: Appointment In Samarra...
Sherlock: I’m sorry?
Mycroft: The merchant who can’t outrun Death. You always hated that story as a child.
& Lestrade: What’s wrong? I thought you’d be pleased.
Sherlock: I am pleased.
Lestrade: You don’t look pleased.
Sherlock: This is my game face. And the game is on.
& Watson: Better?.. Hang on, Mary’s better than me?
Sherlock: Well, she is a retired super-agent with a terrifying skill-set. Of course she’s better. Nothing personal.
& Mary: You should have seen the state of the front room. It was like The Exorcist...
Watson: Huh. Was Rosie’s head spinning round?
Mary: No. Just the projectile vomiting.
Watson: Nice!
Mary: Now, you think we’d have noticed, when she was born.
Watson: Hmm? Noticed what?
Mary: The little 666 on her forehead.
Watson: Hmm, that’s The Omen.
Mary: So?
Watson: Well, you said it was like The Exorcist. They’re two different things. She can’t be the devil and the Antichrist...
Mary: Yeah, can’t she? I’m coming, darling. Mummy’s coming.
& Craig: Have you heard of that thing? In Germany?.. Ostalgie. People who missed the old days under the communists. People are weird, aren’t they?
Sherlock: Hmm.
& Craig: Thatcher, Reagan, Stalin. Time’s a great leveller, innit? Thatcher’s like, I dunno, Napoleon now.
& Sherlock: Congratulations, by the way.
Lestrade: I’m sorry?
Sherlock: Well, you’re about to solve a big one.
Lestrade: Yeah, until John publishes his blog.
Sherlock: Yeah, until then, basically.
& Mary: Sherlock, the dragon-slayer.
& Sherlock: Families fall out.
& Mycroft: But remember this, brother mine, agents like Mary tend not to reach retirement age. They get retired in a pretty permanent sort of way.
Sherlock: Not. On. My watch.
& Passenger: Did you have a nice time in London?
Mary: It was OK, I guess. But did somebody hide the sun? Ha-ha.
& Mary: ’I know you’ll try to find me but there is no point. Every move is random and not even Sherlock Holmes can anticipate the roll of a dice.’
& Sherlock: Mary, no human action is ever truly random. An advanced grasp of the mathematics of probability, mapped onto a thorough apprehension of human psychology and the known dispositions of any given individual, can reduce the number of variables considerably. I myself know of at least 58 techniques to refine a seemingly infinite array of randomly generated possibilities down to the smallest number of feasible variables. But they’re really difficult, so instead I just stuck a tracer on the inside of the memory stick.
& Mary: Oh, you bastard! You bastard!
Sherlock: I know, but your face!
Mary: «The mathematics of probability»?
Sherlock: You believed that.
Mary: «Feasible variables»?
Sherlock: Yes, I started to run out about then.
& Sherlock: I will keep you safe. But it has to be in London. It’s my city, I know the turf.
& Sherlock: How’s your Latin, brother dear?
Mycroft: My Latin?
Sherlock: Amo, amas, amat.
Mycroft: I love, you love, he loves. What...?
& Sherlock: Work is the best antidote to sorrow, Mrs Hudson.
Mrs Hudson: Yes. Yes, I expect you’re right. I’ll make some tea, shall I?
& Sherlock: Mrs Hudson?
Mrs Hudson: Yes, Sherlock?
Sherlock: If you ever think I’m becoming a bit full of myself, cocky or over-confident...
Mrs Hudson: Yes?
Sherlock: ...would you just say the word Norbury to me? Would you?
Mrs Hudson: Norbury?
Sherlock: Just that.
& Mary: ...I’m giving you a case, Sherlock. Might be the hardest case of your career.
& 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?
& Charles Augustus Magnussen: Facts are for history books. I work in news.
& Smallwood: This is blackmail!
Magnussen: Of course it isn’t blackmail. This is... ownership.
& Magnussen: Claire de la Lune... It never tastes like it smells, does it?
& Watson: No, you can’t come, you’re pregnant.
Mary: You can’t go, I’m pregnant!
& Watson: Well? Is he clean? Ω Nod in the Elementary direction? Nice.
& Mycroft: Don’t reply, just look frightened and scuttle.
& Sherlock: Um, what was I going to say?.. Oh, yeah. Bye-bye.
& Watson: It’s for a case, you say? What sort of case?
Sherlock: Too big and dangerous for any sane individual to get involved in.
Watson: You trying to put me off?
Sherlock: God, no. Trying to recruit you. And stay out of my bedroom.
& Janine: Where’s Sherl?
Watson: Sherl!?!
& Magnussen: Best thing about the English... you’re so domesticated. All standing around, apologising... keeping your little heads down. You can do what you like here. No-one’s ever going to stop you. A nation of herbivores.
I have interests all over the world but... everything starts in England. If it works here... I try it in a real country. The United Kingdom, Petri dish to the Western World.
& Sherlock: You see, as long as there’s people, there’s always a weak spot.
& Watson: Sherlock, she loves you!
Sherlock: Yes. Like I said, human error.
& Watson: We should call the police.
Sherlock: During our own burglary? You’re really not a natural at this, are you?
& Molly: It’s not like it is in the movies. There’s not a great big spurt of blood and you go flying backwards. The impact isn’t spread over a wide area. It’s tightly focused so there’s little or no energy transfer. You stay still and the bullet pushes through. You’re almost certainly going to die, so we need to focus. I said, “Focus!”
& Sherlock: You... You never felt pain, did you? Why did you never feel pain?
Moriarty: You always feel it, Sherlock. But you don’t have to fear it! Ω Unexpectedly.
& Watson: You... Mrs. Watson, you’re in big trouble.
Mary: Really? Why?
Watson: His first word when he woke up... “Mary.”
& Janine: Sherlock Holmes, you are a back-stabbing, heartless, manipulative bastard.
Sherlock: And you, as it turns out, are a grasping, opportunistic, publicity-hungry, tabloid whore.
Janine: So, we’re good then?
Sherlock: Yeah, of course.
& Sherlock: So... Mary Watson... who are you?
& Bill Wiggins: Rule one of looking for Sherlock Holmes, he finds you.
& Sherlock: That wasn’t a miss, that was surgery.
& Sherlock: Now talk and sort it out and do it quickly.
& Mrs. Holmes: I’m not absolutely sure why you’re here.
Sherlock: I invited him.
Wiggins: I’m his protege, Mrs. Holmes. When he dies, I get all his stuff and his job.
Sherlock: No.
Wiggins: Oh, well, I help out a bit.
Sherlock: Closer.
& Sherlock: You were a doctor who went to war. You’re a man who couldn’t stay in the suburbs for more than a month without storming a crack den, beating up a junkie. Your best friend is a sociopath, who solves crimes as an alternative to getting high. That’s me, by the way, hello. Even the landlady used to run a drug cartel.
Mrs. Hudson: It was my husband’s cartel! I was just typing.
Sherlock: And exotic dancing.
Mrs. Hudson: Sherlock Holmes, if you’ve been YouTubing...
Sherlock: John, you are addicted to a certain lifestyle. You are abnormally attracted to dangerous situations and people, so is it truly such a surprise that the woman you fall in love with conforms to that pattern?
& Watson: Why is SHE like that?
Sherlock: Because YOU chose her.
Watson: Why is everything always... MY FAULT?!?!
Mrs. Hudson: Oh, neighbours!
& Watson: Sit.
Mary: Why?
Watson: Because that’s where they sit. The people who come in here with their stories. They’re the clients, that’s all you are now, Mary. You’re a client. This is where you sit and talk and this is where we sit and listen. Then we decide if we want you or not. Ω Bazinga, BTW.
& Watson: The problems of your past are your business. The problems of your future... are my privilege. It’s all I have to say, it’s all I need to know.
& Watson: I don’t understand.
Magnussen: You should have that on a T-shirt.
& Magnussen: It’s all about knowledge, everything is. Knowing is owning.
& Watson: But if you just know it, then you don’t have proof.
Magnussen: Proof? What would I need proof for? I’m in news, you moron. I don’t have to prove it, I just have to print it.
& Watson: I still don’t understand.
Magnussen: And there’s the back of the T-shirt.
& Mycroft: Oh, Sherlock. What have you done?
& Watson: So here we are.
Sherlock: William Sherlock Scott Holmes.
Watson: Sorry?
Sherlock: That’s the whole of it. If you’re looking for baby names.
& Sherlock: John, there’s something I should say, I’ve meant to say always and I never have. Since it’s unlikely we’ll ever meet again, I might as well say it now... Sherlock is actually a girl’s name.
Watson: It’s not.
Sherlock: It was worth a try.
& Sherlock: To the very best of times, John.
& Moriarty: Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?
& Mycroft: As it turns out, you’re needed.
Sherlock: Oh, for God’s sake, make up your mind! Who needs me this time?
Mycroft: .... England.
& Mary: But he’s dead. I mean, you told me he was dead, Moriarty?
Watson: Absolutely. Blew his own brains out.
Mary: So how can he be back? Ω Precisely as Sherlock could.
& Lestrade: Argh! Argh! AARGH!
Sgt Donovan: Oh! Greg...
Lestrade: In the act! It’s the only way we’re going to do this, in the act!
& Lestrade: You know how most days aren’t good days?
& Lestrade: What’s going on?!
Sherlock: This is hard.
Lestrade: What?!!
Sherlock: Really hard. Hardest thing I’ve ever had to do... Do you know any funny stories about John?
& Sherlock: Shut up, Mrs Hudson.
Mrs. Hudson: I haven’t said a word.
Sherlock: You’re formulating a question, it’s physically painful watching you think.
& Mrs. Hudson: Your mother has a lot to answer for.
Sherlock: Hmm, I know. I have a list. Mycroft has a file.
& Mrs. Hudson: So, it’s the big day then.
Sherlock: What big day?
Mrs. Hudson: The wedding! John and Mary getting married.
Sherlock: Two people who currently live together are about to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday, then carry on living together. What’s big about that?
Mrs. Hudson: It changes people, marriage.
Sherlock: Hmm, no it doesn’t.
& Sherlock: Right then. Into battle.
& Sherlock: I think from now on, we’ll downgrade you to casual acquaintance. No more than three planned social encounters a year and always in John’s presence. I have your contact details. I will be monitoring.
David: They’re right about you. You’re a bloody psychopath.
Sherlock: High functioning sociopath, with your number.
& Mary: Oh, Sherlock! Neither of us were the first, you know.
Sherlock: Stop smiling.
Mary: It’s my wedding day!
& Majordom: Pray silence for the best man.
Sherlock: Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, and... um, others. Er...
& Sherlock: Right, um... First things first, telegrams. Well, they’re not actually telegrams, we just call them telegrams. I don’t know why. Wedding tradition. Because we don’t have enough of that already, apparently.
& Sherlock: John Watson. My friend, John Watson.
& Sherlock: I’m afraid, John, I can’t congratulate you. All emotions, and in particular love, stand opposed to the pure, cold reason I hold above all things. A wedding is, in my considered opinion, nothing short of a celebration of all that is false and specious and irrational and sentimental in this ailing and morally compromised world. Today we honour the deathwatch beetle that is the doom of our society, and in time, one feels certain, our entire species.
& Sherlock: It is a fact, I believe, that brides tend to favour exceptionally plain bridesmaids for their big day. There is a certain analogy there, I feel. And contrast is, after all, God’s own plan to enhance the beauty of his creation. Or it would be if God were not a ludicrous fantasy designed to provide a career opportunity for the family idiot.
& Sherlock: The point I’m trying to make is that I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet. I am dismissive of the virtuous, unaware of the beautiful and uncomprehending in the face of the happy. So if I didn’t understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody’s best friend.
& Sherlock: Ah, yes. Now onto some funny stories about John... What’s wrong? What happened? Why are you all doing that? John?
Mrs. Hudson: Oh, Sherlock!
Sherlock: Did I do it wrong?
Watson: No, you didn’t. Come here.
& Sherlock: Scotland Yard, have you got a theory? Yeah, you, you’re a detective, broadly speaking. Got a theory?
Lestrade: Er, um, if the, er... If the... If the...
& Sherlock: Ash. I know ash.
& Sherlock: I have an international reputation. Do you have an international reputation?
Watson: No, I don’t have an international reputation.
Sherlock: No. And I can’t even remember what for. It’s crime... something or other.
& Watson: Am I... pretty? This?
Sherlock: Beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood impressions, influences and role models.
Watson: Yeah, but am I a pretty lady?
& Sherlock: A word to the wise, should any of you require the services of either of us, I will solve your murder, but it takes John Watson to save your life.
& Sherlock: This blog is the story of two men and their, frankly, ridiculous adventures of murder, mystery and mayhem. But from now on, there’s a new story. A bigger adventure... Today begin the adventures of Mary Elizabeth Watson and John Hamish Watson.
& Mycroft: Oh, Sherlock! What do we say about coincidences?
Sherlock: The universe is rarely so lazy.
Mycroft: So, the balance of probability is?
Sherlock: Someone went to great lengths to find out something...
Mycroft: What great lengths?
Sherlock: They lied...
Mycroft: Which suggests?
Sherlock: Criminal intent.
Mycroft: Also suggests?
Sherlock: Intelligence, planning.
Mycroft: Clearly. But more importantly?
& Sherlock: All of which is suggestive of... Murder! Sorry, did I say murder? I meant to say marriage. But, you know, they’re quite similar procedures, when you think about it. The participants tend to know each other and it’s over when one of them’s dead. In fairness, murder is a lot quicker though.
& Sherlock: Let’s play a game. Let’s play murder.
& Sherlock: Imagine someone’s going to get murdered at a wedding. Who exactly would you pick?
Mrs. Hudson: I think you’re a popular choice at the moment, dear.
& Sherlock: As a mental exercise, I’ve often planned the murder of friends and colleagues...
& Sherlock: Can I let you in on something, Janine?.. I love dancing, I’ve always loved it.
Janine: Seriously?
Sherlock: Watch out. .... Never really comes up in crime work, but, you know, I live in hope of the right case.
Janine: Oh, I wish you weren’t... whatever it is you are.
& Sherlock: Today we saw two people make vows. I’ve never made a vow in my life and after tonight I never will again. So, here in front of you all, my first and last vow. Mary and John, whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on, I swear I will always be there. Always. For all three of you.
& Sherlock: Anyway, it’s time for dancing. Play the music again, please. Thank you. OK, everybody, just dance, don’t be shy. Dancing, please. Very good.
& Sherlock: Sorry, that was one more deduction than I was really expecting.
Watson: Deduction?
Sherlock: Increased appetite... Change of taste perception... You were sick this morning... You got angry with me when I mentioned it to you. All the signs are there.
Mary: The signs?
Sherlock: The signs of three.
& Lestrade: Bollocks!
Phillip: No, no, no, no, it’s obvious. That’s how he did it. It’s obvious.
& Lestrade: Let it go, Sherlock’s dead.
& Lestrade: A bungee rope, a mask, Derren Brown... Two years and the theories keep getting more stupid. How many more have you got for me today? Ω Bazinga!
& Lestrade: Do you honestly believe that if you have enough stupid theories, it’s going to change what really happened?
& Sherlock: I didn’t know you spoke Serbian.
Mycroft: I didn’t. But the language has a Slavic root. Frequent Turkish and German loan words. Took me a couple of hours.
Sherlock: Hmm, you’re slipping.
Mycroft: Middle-age, brother mine. Comes to us all.
& Watson: I’ve er... I have met someone.
Mrs. Hudson: Oh! Ah, lovely.
Watson: Yeah. We’re getting married. Well, I’m going to ask, anyway.
Mrs. Hudson: So soon after Sherlock?
Watson: Hmm, well, yes.
Mrs. Hudson: What’s his name?
Watson: It’s a woman.
Mrs. Hudson: A woman?! Yes, of course it’s a woman. You really have moved on, haven’t you?
Watson: Mrs Hudson, how many times? Sherlock was not my boyfriend!
Mrs. Hudson: Live and let live, that’s my motto.
Watson: Listen to me — I am not gay!
& Sherlock: I think I’ll surprise John. He’ll be delighted. Ω Bu-ha-ha.
& Sherlock: Interesting thing, a tuxedo. Lends distinction to friends and anonymity to waiters.
& Mary: John? John, what is it? What?
Sherlock: Well, the short version... not dead.
& Watson: I don’t care how you faked it, Sherlock. I want to know why.
Sherlock: Why? Because Moriarty had to be stopped. Oh. Why, as in...? I see. Yes. Why? That’s a little more difficult to explain. Ω Yo. They bullied us!
& Sherlock: The next of the 13 possibilities was... Ω We’ll never know, right? No, not right!!
& Sherlock: I don’t understand, I said I’m sorry, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?
Mary: Gosh, you don’t know anything about human nature, do you?
Sherlock: Hmm, nature?.. No. Human?.. No.
& Phillip: Oh, ho!
Laura: What?!
Phillip: Are you out of your mind?!
Laura: I don’t see why not. It’s just as plausible as some of your theories.
& Phillip: I founded ’The Empty Hearse’ so like-minded people could meet, discuss theories! Sherlock’s still out there.
& Watson: I don’t shave for Sherlock Holmes.
Mary: You should put that on a T-shirt.
Watson: Shut up.
Mary: Or what?
Watson: Or I’ll marry you.
& Mycroft: Don’t be smart.
Sherlock: That takes me back. “Don’t be smart, Sherlock, I’m the smart one.”
Mycroft: I am the smart one.
Sherlock: I used to think I was an idiot.
Mycroft: Both of us thought you were an idiot, Sherlock. We had nothing else to go on, until we met other children.
Sherlock: Oh, yes, that was a mistake.
Mycroft: Ghastly. What were they thinking of?
& Mycroft: I am not lonely, Sherlock.
Sherlock: How would you know?
& Mrs. Hudson: Sherlock?
Sherlock: Hmm?
Mrs. Hudson: Talk to John.
Sherlock: I’ve tried talking to him. He made his position quite clear.
Mrs. Hudson: What did he say?
Sherlock: F...
Mrs. Hudson: Oh, dear.
& Molly: “How I Did It, by Jack the Ripper.”
Sherlock: Uh-huh.
Molly: That’s impossible.
Sherlock: Welcome to my world.
& Sherlock: I won’t insult your intelligence by explaining it to you.
Lestrade: No, please, insult away.
& Sherlock: I hope you’ll be very happy, Molly Hooper. You deserve it. After all, not all the men you fall for can turn out to be sociopaths. No? No.
Molly: .... Maybe it’s just my type.
& Watson: Those were your parents?
Sherlock: Yes.
Watson: Well... that is not what I...
Sherlock: What?
Watson: I mean, they’re just so... ordinary.
Sherlock: It’s a cross I have to bear.
& Sherlock: Sometimes a deception is so audacious, so outrageous that you can’t see it even when it’s staring you in the face.
& Sherlock: I don’t understand.
Watson: Well, that’s a first.
& Sherlock: Please, John, forgive me, for all the hurt that I caused you.
Watson: No, no, no, no, no, no, this is a trick. No. Another one of your bloody tricks.
& Watson: I wanted you not to be dead.
Sherlock: Yeah, well, be careful what you wish for.
& Sherlock: Neat, don’t you think?
Phillip: Hmm...
Sherlock: What?
Phillip: Not the way I’d have done it.
Sherlock: Oh, really?
Phillip: No, I’m not saying it’s not clever, but...
Sherlock: What?
Phillip: Bit... disappointed.
Sherlock: Oh. Everyone’s a critic. Ω Bazinga!
& Phillip: Hang on. That doesn’t make sense. How could you be sure John would stand on that exact spot? I mean, what if he’d moved? And... how did you do it all so quickly? What if the bike hadn’t hit him? And anyway, why are you telling me all this? If you’d pulled that off, I’m the last person you’d tell the truth to!.. Sherlock Holmes! Ω Definitely.
& Sherlock: There’s an off switch. There’s always an off switch. Terrorists can get into all sorts of problems unless there’s an off switch.
& Watson: I’m definitely going to kill you!
Sherlock: Oh, please. Killing me, that’s so two years ago.
& Watson: Did you...?
Sherlock: I’m not saying a word.
Watson: No, best not.
& Watson: You love it.
Sherlock: Love what?
Watson: Being Sherlock Holmes.
Sherlock: I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.
& Watson: When you were dead, I went to your grave... I made a little speech. I actually spoke to you.
Sherlock: I know. I was there.
Watson: I asked you for one more miracle. I asked you to stop being dead.
Sherlock: I heard you.
& Sherlock: Anyway, time to go and be Sherlock Holmes.
& Watson: Why today?
Watson's therapist: Do you want to hear me say it?
Watson: 18 months since our last appointment...
& — A small token of our gratitude.
Sherlock: Diamond cufflinks... All my cuffs have buttons.
Watson: He means ’thank you.’
Sherlock: Do I?
Watson: Just say it.
Sherlock: Thank you.
& Lestrade: Peter Ricoletti... Number one on Interpol’s most wanted list since 1982. We got him, and there’s one person we have to thank for giving us the decisive leads. With all his customary diplomacy and tact.
Watson: Sarcasm.
Sherlock: Yes.
& Sherlock: “Boffin!” “Boffin Sherlock Holmes!”
Watson: Everybody gets one.
Sherlock: One what?
Watson: Tabloid nickname. SuBo, Nasty Nick. I’ll probably get one soon.
Sherlock: Page five, column six, first sentence. Why is it always the hat photograph?!
Watson: “Bachelor John Watson.”
Sherlock: What kind of hat is it?
Watson: What are they implying?!
& Sherlock: It really bothers you.
Watson: What?
Sherlock: What people say.
Watson: Yes.
Sherlock: About me. Why would it upset YOU?
Watson: Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of the news.
& Watson: That’s your phone.
Sherlock: Hmm, it keeps doing that.
& Watson: Pressing case, is it?
Sherlock: They’re all pressing until they’re solved.
& Moriarty: No rush.
& Watson: Here.
Sherlock: Not now, I’m busy.
Watson: Sherlock...
Sherlock: Not now!
Watson: He’s back.
Nina Simone — Sinnerman
# Oh, sinnerman, where you gonna run to?
# Sinnerman, where you gonna run to?
# Where you gonna run to?
# All on that day
# Well, I run to the rock...
& Moriarty: Would you mind slipping your hand into my pocket? ... Thanks.
& Kitty Reilly (by Katherine Parkinson AKA Jen): You’re him.
Sherlock: Wrong toilet.
Kitty: I’m a big fan.
Sherlock: Evidently.
Kitty: I read your cases, follow them all. Sign my shirt, would you?
Sherlock: There are two types of fans.
Kitty: Oh?
Sherlock: Catch me before I kill again, Type A.
Kitty: Uh-huh. What’s Type B?
Sherlock: Your bedroom’s just a taxi ride away.
Kitty: Hmm. Guess which one I am?
Sherlock: Neither.
& Sherlock: I don’t see smart. I don’t see trustworthy. I’ll give you a quote. if you like. Three little words. You... repel*... me.
& Sorrel, prosecutor: Would you describe him as...
Sherlock: Leading.
Sorrel: What?
Sherlock: You’re leading the witness. He’ll object and the judge’ll uphold.
Judge: Mr Holmes!
Sherlock: Ask me how, HOW would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him? Do they not teach you this?
Judge: Mr Holmes, we are fine without your help!
Sorrel: HOW would you describe this man, his character?
& Sherlock: James Moriarty isn’t a man at all. He’s a spider. A spider at the centre of a web, a criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances.
& Judge: Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man is an expert? After knowing the accused for just five minutes?
Sherlock: Two minutes would have made me an expert, five was ample*.
& Judge: Mr Holmes! {...} Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt. Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes... WITHOUT SHOWING OFF?!
& Watson: Don’t do that.
Sherlock: Do what?
Watson: The look.
Sherlock: Look?
Watson: You’re doing the look again.
Sherlock: Well, I can’t see it, can I? It’s my face.
Watson: Yes and you’re doing a “We both know what’s really going on here” face.
Sherlock: We do.
Watson: No, I don’t, which is why I find the face so annoying.
& Sherlock: Most people knock... But then, you’re not most people, I suppose.
& Moriarty: You know when he was on his deathbed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his... pieces. The boy stopped before he got to the end.
Sherlock: The dying man jumped out of bed, ran to the piano and finished it.
Moriarty: Couldn’t cope with an unfinished melody.
Sherlock: Neither can you, that’s why you’ve come.
& Moriarty: Every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned villain. You need me or you’re nothing.
& Moriarty: We’re just alike, you and I, except... you’re boring. You’re on the side of the angels.
& Moriarty: Every person has their pressure point. Someone that they want to protect from harm. Easy-peasy.
& Sherlock: You didn’t take anything because you don’t need to.
Moriarty: Good...
Sherlock: You’ll never need to take anything ever again.
Moriarty: Very good, because?..
Sherlock: Because nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London or Pentonville Prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you into all three.
Moriarty: I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now, they’re all mine. No such thing as secrecy, I OWN secrecy. Nuclear codes? I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king. And honey, you should see me in a crown...
& Moriarty: Big client list — rogue governments, intelligence communities, terrorist cells. They all want me. Suddenly, I’m Mr Sex.
& Sherlock: What is it all for?
Moriarty: I want to solve the problem. Our problem. The final problem. It’s going to start very soon, Sherlock... the fall. But don’t be scared, falling is just like flying, except there’s a more permanent destination.
& Sherlock: Never liked riddles.
Moriarty: Learn to. Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. I... owe...you.
& Anderson: Linseed oil. Not much use, it doesn’t lead us to the kidnapper.
Sherlock: Brilliant, Anderson.
Anderson: Really?
Sherlock: Yes, brilliant impression of an idiot.
& Watson: Having fun?
Sherlock: Starting to.
Watson: Maybe don’t do the smiling. Kidnapped children?
& Watson: How could he get past the CCTV? If all the doors were locked.
Sherlock: He walked in when they weren’t locked.
Watson: But a stranger can’t just walk into a school like that.
Sherlock: Anyone can walk in anywhere if they pick the right moment.
& Molly: You’re a bit like my dad. He’s dead. No, sorry.
Sherlock: Molly, please don’t feel the need to make conversation, it’s really not your area.
Molly: When he was dying, he was always cheerful, he was lovely, except when he thought no-one could see. I saw him once, he looked sad.
Sherlock: Molly.
Molly: You look sad, when you think he can’t see you. Are you OK? And don’t just say you are, because I know what that means, looking sad when you think no-one can see you.
& Molly: What I’m trying to say is, that if there’s anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all, you can have me. No, I just mean, I mean, if there’s anything you need, it’s fine.
Sherlock: But what can I need from you?
Molly: Nothing. I don’t know. You could probably say thank you, actually.
Sherlock: Thank you?
& Moriarty: Are you ready for the story?.. This is the story of Sir Boast*-a-lot.
Donovan: A footprint, it’s all he had. A footprint.
Lestrade: Yeah, well, you know what he’s like. CSI Baker Street.
& Moriarty: No charge.
& Sherlock: Cameras, we're being watched.
Mrs Hudson: What?! Cameras? Here? I’m in my nightie!
& Sherlock: No, Inspector.
Lestrade: Why?
Sherlock: The answer’s no.
Lestrade: You’ve not heard the question!
Sherlock: You want to take me to the station. Saving you the trouble of asking.
& Sherlock: You’re going to have to be strong to resist. You can’t kill an idea, can you? Not once it’s made a home... there.
& Watson: You should have gone with him. People’ll think...
Sherlock: I don’t care what people think.
Watson: You’d care if they thought you were stupid or wrong.
Sherlock: No, that would just make them stupid or wrong.
Watson: Sherlock, I don’t want the world believing you’re...
Sherlock: That I am what?!
Watson: ... A fraud.
& Watson: No, I know you for real.
Sherlock: 100 percent?
Watson: Well, nobody could fake being such an annoying dick all the time.
& Sherlock: Joining me?
Watson: Yeah. Well, apparently it’s against the law to chin the Chief Superintendent.
& Sherlock: Everybody wants to believe it, that’s what makes it so clever. A lie that’s preferable to the truth. My deductions were a sham. No-one feels inadequate, Sherlock’s an ordinary man.
& Watson: So that’s your source?! ... Moriarty is Richard Brook?
Kitty: Of course he’s Richard Brook, there is no Moriarty. There never has been.
Watson: What are you talking about?
Kitty: Look him up. Rich Brook, an actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty.
Bee Gees — Stayin Alive
# I’ve been kicked around since I was born
# But now it’s all right, it’s OK
# You can look the other way
# We can try to understand
# The New York Times’ effect on man
# Whether you’re a brother or whether you’re a mother
# You’re stayin’ alive... #
& Moriarty: Well... here we are at last. You and me, Sherlock. And our problem — the final problem. Staying alive! It’s so boring, isn’t it? It’s just staying.
& Moriarty: Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you? Richard Brook... Nobody seems to get the joke, but you do.
Sherlock: Of course.
Moriarty: Attaboy.
Sherlock: Richard Brook in German is Reichenbach.
& Moriarty: Glad you chose a tall building. Nice way to do it.
Sherlock: Do it? Do what?.. Yes, of course. My suicide.
Moriarty: Genius detective proved to be a fraud. I read it in the paper so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairy tales. And pretty grim ones too.
& Sherlock: I can prove that you created an entirely false identity.
Moriarty: Oh, just kill yourself. It’s a lot less effort.
& Moriarty: What?! What is it? What did I miss?
& Sherlock: You want me to shake hands with you in hell? I shall not disappoint you.
Moriarty: Nah. You talk big. Nah. You’re ordinary. You’re ordinary. You’re on the side of the angels.
Sherlock: Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don’t think for one second that I am one of them.
Moriarty: ....... No... you’re not. I see. You’re not ordinary. No. You’re me. You’re me. Thank you... Sherlock Holmes. Thank you. Bless you.
& Moriarty: As long as I’m alive, you can save your friends, you’ve got a way out. Well, good luck with that.
Sherlock: No!
Moriarty: Yes, sir. Thank you. Bye.
& Watson: Erm... Hmm. You... you told me once... that you weren’t a hero. Erm, there were times I didn’t even think you were human, but let me tell you this, you were... the best man... the most human... human being that I’ve ever known and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, so... there. I was so alone... and I owe you so much. But, please, there’s just one more thing, one more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me, don’t be... dead. Would you do that just for me?
& Mrs. Hudson: How about a nice cuppa and perhaps you could put away your harpoon?
Sherlock: I need something stronger than tea... Seven percent stronger.
& Sherlock: Oh, John, I envy you so much!
Watson: You envy me?
Sherlock: Your mind, it’s so placid*, straight-forward, barely used. Mine’s like an engine, racing out of control. A rocket, tearing itself to pieces, trapped on the launch pad. I need a case!
Watson: You’ve just solved one, by harpooning a dead pig, apparently!
Sherlock: Oh, that was this morning. When’s the next one?!
& Sherlock: ... Am I wrong?
Henry Knight: No. You’re right. You’re completely, exactly right. Bloody hell, I heard you were quick.
Sherlock: It’s my job. Now shut up and smoke.
& Henry: It’s a strange place, the Hollow. It makes you feel so cold inside, so afraid.
Sherlock: Yes, if I wanted poetry, I’d read John’s emails to his girlfriends, much funnier. What did you see?
& Sherlock: Say that again.
Henry: I found footprints, they were big...
Sherlock: No, no, no, your exact words. Repeat your exact words from a moment ago, exactly as you said them.
Henry: ’Mr. Holmes... they were the footprints of a gigantic hound.’’
Sherlock: I’ll take the case.
Henry: Sorry, what?!
Sherlock: Thank you for bringing this to my attention, it’s very promising.
Watson: Sorry, what? A minute ago, footprints were boring, now they’re very promising?
Sherlock: It’s got nothing to do with footprints, you weren’t listening.
& Sherlock: I can’t leave London at the moment, far too busy. But don’t worry, I’m putting my best man onto it. I can always rely on John to send me the relevant data, as he never understands a word of it.
& Sherlock: 20-year-old disappearance, a monstrous hound? I wouldn’t miss this for the world!
& Gary: Sorry we couldn’t do a double room for you boys.
Watson: That’s fine. We’re not... There you go.
Gary: Oh, ta. I’ll just get your change.
Watson: Ta.
& Watson: Captain John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers.
Corporal Lyons: Sir. Major Barrymore won’t be pleased, sir. He’ll want to see you both.
& Sherlock: Stapleton! I knew I knew your name.
Dr. Stapleton: I doubt it.
Sherlock: People say there’s no such thing as coincidence. Dull lives they must lead.
& Sherlock: I never did ask, Dr. Frankland, what exactly is it that you do here?
Dr. Frankland: Ah, Mr. Holmes, I would love to tell you, but then, of course, I’d have to kill you.
Sherlock: That would be tremendously ambitious of you.
& Sherlock: I saw it, too... I saw it too, John.
Watson: Just... just a minute, you saw what?
Sherlock: A hound. Out there in the Hollow. A gigantic hound.
Watson: Um, look, Sherlock, we have to be rational about this. OK, now you, of all people, can’t just... Let’s just stick to what we know, yes? Stick to the facts.
Sherlock: Once you’ve ruled out the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true.
Watson: What does that mean?
Sherlock: Look at me, I’m afraid, John. Afraid.
& Sherlock: Why do you call it a hound? Why a hound?
Henry: Why? What do you mean?
Sherlock: It’s odd, isn’t it? It’s a strange choice of words, archaic. That’s why I took the case. “Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound.” Why say “hound”?
Henry: I don’t know, I’ve never...
Sherlock: Actually, I’d better skip the coffee.
& Sherlock: Something happened to me last night, something I’ve not experienced before.
Watson: Yes, you said. Fear, Sherlock Holmes got scared, you said.
Sherlock: It was more than that, John. It was doubt. I felt doubt. I’ve always been able to trust my senses, the evidence of my own eyes, until last night.
Watson: You can’t actually believe that you saw some kind of monster?
Sherlock: No, I can’t believe that. But I did see it, so the question is, how? How?
& Sherlock: Listen, what I said before, John, I meant it. I don’t have friends. I’ve just got one.
& Sherlock: John! You are amazing! You are fantastic!
Watson: Yes, all right, you don’t have to overdo it.
Sherlock: You may not be the most luminous of people, but as a
conductor of light, you are unbeatable.
Watson: What?!
Sherlock: Some people who aren’t geniuses have an ability to stimulate it in others.
Watson: You were saying sorry. Don’t spoil it.
& Watson: What’s this?
Sherlock: Coffee. I made coffee.
Watson: You never make coffee.
Sherlock: Don’t you want it?
Watson: You don’t have to keep apologising. ... Thanks. ... Hm, I don’t take sugar. ... That’s nice. It’s good.
& Gary: It was like us having our own Loch Ness monster.
& Watson: Jesus Christ! It was the hound! Sherlock, it was here, I swear it, Sherlock, it must, it must... Did-did you see it? You must have!
Sherlock: It’s all right, it’s OK now.
Watson: NO, IT’S NOT! IT’S NOT OK!!! I saw it, I was wrong!
Sherlock: Hm, well, let’s not jump to conclusions.
Watson: What?!
& Dr. Stapleton: Listen, if you can imagine it, someone is probably doing it somewhere. Of course they are.
Watson: Cloning?
Dr. Stapleton: Yes, of course. Dolly the Sheep, remember?
Watson: Human cloning?
Dr. Stapleton: Why not?
Watson: And what about animals? Not sheep. Big animals.
Dr. Stapleton: Size isn’t a problem. Not at all. The only limits are ethics and the law and both those things can be very flexible.
& Sherlock: Get out, I need to go to my mind palace.
Dr. Stapleton: Your what?
Watson: He’s not going to be doing much talking for a while, we may as well go.
Dr. Stapleton: His what?
Watson: Oh, his “mind palace”. It’s a memory technique, a sort of mental map. You plot a map with a location, it doesn’t have to be a real place. You deposit memories there. Theoretically, you never forget anything. All you do is find your way back to it.
Dr. Stapleton: So this imaginary location could be anything, a house or a street?
Watson: Yeah.
Dr. Stapleton: But he said “palace”, he said it was a palace?
Watson: Yeah, well, he would, wouldn’t he?
& Sherlock: So they didn’t have it put down then, the dog?
Watson: Obviously. I suppose they just couldn’t bring themselves to do it.
Sherlock: I see.
Watson: No, you don’t.
Sherlock: No, I don’t. Sentiment?
Watson: Sentiment.
& Moriarty: You can’t be allowed to continue. You just can’t. I would try to convince you, but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind.
& Moriarty: Do you mind if I get that?
Sherlock: Oh, no, please. You’ve got the rest of your life.
& Moriarty: Sorry... Wrong day to die.
Sherlock: Oh. Did you get a better offer?
& Watson: What happened there?
Sherlock: Someone changed his mind. The question is... who?
& Sherlock: What are you typing?
Watson: Blog.
Sherlock: About?
Watson: Us.
Sherlock: You mean me.
& A geek: We have this website, it explains the true meaning of comic books, cos people miss a lot of the themes. But then all the comic books started coming true.
Sherlock: ........ Oh... interesting.
& Sherlock: Geek Interpreter, what’s that?
Watson: That’s the title.
Sherlock: What does it need a title for?
& Sherlock: Do people actually read your blog?
Watson: Where do you think our clients come from?
Sherlock: I have a website.
Watson: In which you enumerate 240 different types of tobacco ash. Nobody’s reading your website.
& Sherlock: People don’t really go to heaven when they die, they’re taken to a special room and burned.
& Lestrade: This man should have died in a plane crash in Germany yesterday, but instead he’s in a car boot in Southwark.
Watson: Lucky escape.
Lestrade: Any ideas?
Sherlock: Eight so far. ... OK, four ideas. ... Maybe two ideas. ... No, no, no, don’t mention the unsolved ones!
& Mrs. Hudson: Boys! You’ve got another one!
& Sherlock: Tell us from the start, DON’T be boring.
& Lestrade: Have you heard of Sherlock Holmes?
Carter: Who?
Lestrade: Well, you’re about to meet him now. This is your case, it’s entirely up to you, this is just... friendly advice, but give Sherlock five minutes on your crime scene, and listen to everything that he has to say. And as far as possible... try not to punch him.
& Watson: When did we agree that?
Sherlock: We agreed it yesterday. Stop! ’Closer.’
Watson: I wasn’t even at home yesterday. I was in Dublin!
Sherlock: It’s hardly my fault you weren’t listening.
& Sherlock: Did you see him? Morbidly* obese, the undisguised halitosis* of a single man living on his own. The right sleeve of an internet porn addict, the breathing pattern of an untreated heart condition. Low self-esteem, tiny IQ and a limited life expectancy, and you think he’s a criminal mastermind?!
& Watson: You wearing any pants?
Sherlock: No.
Watson: OK. ... At Buckingham Palace. Right. Ha, ha. Aah, aah, I am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray.
& Watson: You don’t trust your own secret service?
Mycroft: Naturally not. They all spy on people for money.
& Sherlock: Who is she?
Mycroft: Irene Adler. Professionally known as “The Woman”.
Sherlock: Professionally?
Mycroft: There are many names for what she does. She prefers “dominatrix”.
Sherlock: Dominatrix...
Mycroft: Don’t be alarmed. It’s to do with sex.
Sherlock: Sex doesn’t alarm me.
Mycroft: How would you know?
& Mycroft: She doesn’t want anything. She got in touch. She informed us that the photographs existed. She indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favour.
Sherlock: Oh... a power play. A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix. Ooh, this is getting rather fun, isn’t it.
& Watson: OK, the smoking, how did you know?
Sherlock: The evidence was right under your nose, John, as ever you see, but do not observe.
Watson: Observe what?
Sherlock: The ashtray.
& Irene Adler: Kate? We’re going to have a visitor. I’ll need a bit of time to get ready.
Kate: A long time?
Irene: Hmm... ages.
& Watson: What are you doing?
Sherlock: I’m going to into battle, John. I need the right armour.
& Sherlock: Thank you, that was... OK, I think we’re done now, John!
Watson: You want to remember, Sherlock, I was a soldier. I killed people!
Sherlock: You were a doctor!
Watson: I had bad days!
& Kate: What are you going to wear?
Irene: My battle dress.
Kate: Oh, lucky boy.
& Irene: Do you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr Holmes?.. However hard you try, it’s always a self-portrait.
& Irene: Brainy is the new sexy.
& Irene: I don’t understand.
Sherlock: Oh, well try to.
Irene: Why?
Sherlock: Because you cater* to the whims* of the pathetic and take your clothes off to make an impression. Stop boring me and think. It’s the new sexy.
& Sherlock: Noises are important. They can tell you everything. For instance... On hearing a smoke alarm, a mother would look towards her child. Amazing how fire exposes our priorities.
& Sherlock: You should always use gloves with these things, you know. Heaviest oil deposit is always on the first key used, that’s a 3, but after that, the sequence is impossible to read. I see it’s a six digit code. It can’t be your birthday, no disrespect, but you were born in the ’80s and 8’s barely used, so...
& Irene: It’s been a pleasure. Don’t spoil it. This is how I want you to remember me... the woman who beat you. Goodnight, Mr Sherlock Holmes.
& Irene: An accomplished sportsman recently returned from foreign travel with... a boomerang. You got that from one look? Definitely the new sexy.
& Watson: What was that?
Sherlock: Text.
Mycroft: But what was that noise?
& Mycroft: I can put maximum surveillance on her...
Sherlock: Why bother? You can follow her on Twitter. I believe her user name is The Whip* Hand.
& Sherlock: I’ll leave you to your deductions.
Watson: I’m not stupid, you know.
Sherlock: Where do you get that idea?
& Molly: Molly: How’s the hip?
Mrs. Hudson: Oh, it’s atrocious*, but thanks for asking.
Molly: I’ve seen much worse, but then I do post-mortems.
& Molly: The face is a bit sort of bashed-up, so it might be a bit difficult.
Mycroft: That’s her, isn’t it?
Sherlock: Show me the rest of her. ... That’s her.
Mycroft: Thank you, Miss Hooper.
Molly: Who is she? How did Sherlock recognise her from... not her face?
& Sherlock: Just the one. Why?
Mycroft: Merry Christmas.
Sherlock: Smoking indoors, isn’t there one of those... one of those law things?
Mycroft: We’re in a morgue. There’s only so much damage you can do.
& Sherlock: Look at them... They all care so much. Do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?
Mycroft: All lives end, all hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.
& Watson: Are you sure tonight’s a danger night?
Mycroft: No, but then I never am. You have to stay with him, John.
Watson: I’ve got plans.
Mycroft: No.
& Watson: Oh, hi. You OK?
Sherlock: ... I hope you didn’t mess up my sock index this time!
& Watson: Listen, has he ever had any kind of girlfriend, boyfriend, a relationship, ever?
Mrs. Hudson: I don’t know.
Watson: How can we not know?!
Mrs. Hudson: He’s Sherlock. How will we ever know what goes on in that funny old head?
& Watson: You know, Mycroft could just phone me, if he didn’t have this bloody stupid power complex.
& Watson: You’ve texted him a lot!
Just the usual stuff.
Watson: There is no usual in this case.
& Watson: You flirted with Sherlock Holmes?
At him. He never replies.
Watson: No, Sherlock always replies to everything. He’s Mr. Punchline*. He will outlive God trying to have the last word.
& Watson: Who the hell knows about Sherlock Holmes? But for the record, if anyone out there still cares, I’m not actually gay.
Irene: Well, I am. Look at us both.
& Mrs. Hudson: Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock...
Sherlock: Don’t snivel*, Mrs Hudson, it’ll do nothing to impede* the flight of a bullet. What a tender* world that would be...
& Watson: Jeez, what the hell is happening?
Sherlock: Mrs. Hudson has been attacked by an American, I’m restoring balance to the universe.
& Lestrade: And exactly how many times did he fall out the window?
Sherlock: It’s all a bit of a blur, Detective Inspector. I lost count.
& Sherlock: Shame on you, John Watson.
Watson: Shame on me?!
Sherlock: Mrs. Hudson leave Baker Street? England would fall.
& Watson: Hey, Sherlock...
Sherlock: We have a client.
Watson: What, in your bedroom? ... Oh.
& Irene: ... It’s not working.
Sherlock: No, because it’s a duplicate I had made into which you just entered the numbers 1058. I assumed you’d choose something more specific than that, but thanks, anyway. ... ???
Irene: I told you that camera-phone was my life. I know when it’s in my hand.
Sherlock: Oh, you’re rather good.
Irene: You’re not so bad.
& Watson: Hamish.
???
Watson: John Hamish Watson, just if you were looking for baby names.
& Irene: What can you do, Mr. Holmes? Go on, impress a girl.
& Sherlock: Apparently it’s going to save the world, I’m not sure how, but give me a moment, I’ve only been on the case eight seconds.
& Sherlock: Oh, come on, it’s not code, these are seats on a jet. Look, no ’I’ because it can be mistaken for one. No letters past ’K’ ... the width of the plane is the limit. The numbers always appear not in sequence, but the letters have little runs of sequence families and couples sitting together. Only a Jumbo’s wide enough for a letter ’K’ or rows past 55, so there’s always an upstairs. A row 13 eliminates superstitious airlines. The style of the flight number, ’007′, eliminates a few more. Assuming a British point of origin because of the original source, and assuming the crisis is imminent, the only flight that matches all the criteria and departs within the week is the 6.30 to Baltimore tomorrow from Heathrow. Please don’t feel obliged to tell me that was amazing, John’s expressed that in every possible variant available in English.
Irene: I would have you right here, on this desk, until you begged for mercy twice.
Sherlock: ... I’ve never begged for mercy in my life.
Irene: Twice.
& Irene: Have you ever had anyone?
Sherlock: I’m sorry?
Irene: And when I say had, I’m being indelicate.
Sherlock: I don’t understand.
Irene: I’ll be delicate then.
& Irene: Mr. Holmes, if it was the end of the world, if this was the very last night... would you have dinner with me?
Mrs. Hudson: Sherlock?
Irene: Too late.
Sherlock: That’s not the end of the world, that’s Mrs. Hudson.
& Mrs. Hudson: Sherlock, this man was at the door, is the bell still not working? He shot it.
& Mycroft: We’ve lost everything. One fragment of one email, and months and years of planning ... finished.
Sherlock: Your MOD man. That’s all it takes.
Mycroft: One lonely, naive man, desperate to show off, and a woman clever enough to make him feel special.
Sherlock: You should screen your defence people more carefully.
Mycroft: I’m not talking about the MOD man, Sherlock, I’m talking about you! The damsel* in distress*. In the end, are you really so obvious?
& Mycroft: Because this was textbook. The promise of love, the pain of loss, the joy of redemption. Then give him a puzzle and watch him dance.
& Irene: Mr. Holmes, I think we need to talk.
Sherlock: So do I, there are a number of aspects I’m still not clear on.
Irene: Not you, Junior, you’re done now.
& Irene: I’m not playing any more. A list of my requests, and some ideas about my protection once they’re granted. I’d say it wouldn’t blow much of a hole in the wealth of a nation, but... then I’d be lying.
& Irene: I can’t take all the credit, I had a bit of help. Jim Moriarty sends his love. {...} Thank God for the consultant criminal. Gave me a lot of advice about how to play the Holmes boys. Do you know what he calls you? The Ice Man... and the Virgin. ...
Mycroft: And here you are, the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees. Nicely played.
Sherlock: No.
Irene: Sorry?
Sherlock: I said no. Very, very close, but no.
& Irene: There’s no such thing as too much.
Sherlock: Oh, enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine. Craving the distraction of the game, I sympathise, but sentiment? Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side.
Irene: Sentiment? What are you talking about?
Sherlock: You.
Irene: Oh, dear God. Look at the poor man. You don’t actually think I was interested in you?.. Why? Because you’re the great Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat?
Sherlock: No. Because I took your pulse. Elevated. Your pupils dilated. I imagine John Watson thinks love’s a mystery to me, but the chemistry is incredibly simple and very destructive.
& Sherlock: I’ve always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage. Thank you for the final proof.
& Irene: Everything I said, it’s not real. I was just playing the game.
Sherlock: I know. And this is just losing.
& Sherlock: Sorry about dinner.
& Mycroft: She will survive and thrive... but he will never see her again.
Watson: Why would he care? He despised her at the end. Won’t even mention her by name, just ’The Woman’.
Mycroft: Is that loathing or a salute? One of a kind, the one woman who matters.
& Mycroft: My brother has the brain of a scientist or a philosopher, yet he elects to be a detective. What might we deduce about his heart?
Watson: I don’t know.
Mycroft: Neither do I. But, initially, he wanted to be a pirate.
& Sherlock: Clearly you’ve got news. If it’s about the Leeds triple murder, it was the gardener. Did nobody notice the earring?
& Sherlock: When I say run... run! The Woman.THE Woman.