It is a level of psychic pain holy incompatible with human life as we know it. It is a sense of radical and thoroughgoing evil not just as a feature but as the essence of conscious existence. It is a sense of poisoning that pervades the self at the self’s most elementary levels. It is a nausea of the cells and soul.

The test of good manners is to be patient with the bad ones.

The written word may be man's greatest invention. It allows us to converse with the dead, the absent, and the unborn.

If in 100 years I am only known as the man who invented Sherlock Holmes then I will have considered my life a failure.

Written By Arthur Conan Doyle

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