Holmes Moriarty Quotes

I wanted to end the world, but I'll settle for ending yours.

Too much damned TV. Thinks he's Sherlock Holmes." "That's professor Moriarty," corrected Foaly. "Holmes, Moriarty, they both look the same with the flesh scorched off their skulls.

It is not my intention to be fulsome, but I confess that I covet your skull.

I could not rest, Watson, I could not sit quiet in my chair, if I thought that such a man as Professor Moriarty were walking the streets of London unchallenged.

My horror at his crimes was lost in my admiration at his skill.

He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson. He is the organizer of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city, He is a genius, a philosopher, an abstract thinker. He has a brain of the first order. He sits motionless, like a spider in the center of its web, but that web has a thousand radiations, and he knows well every quiver of each of them. He does little himself. He only plans.

But there can be no grave for Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson...Shall they not always live in Baker Street? Are they not there this moment, as one writes? Outside, the hansoms rattle through the rain, and Moriarty plans his latest devilry. Within, the sea-coal flames upon the hearth and Holmes and Watson take their well-won case...So they still live for all that love them well; in a romantic chamber of the heart, in a nostalgic country of the mind, where it is always 1895.

Is he not the celebrated author of The Dynamics of an Asteroid, a book which ascends to such rarefied heights of pure mathematics that it is said that there was no man in the scientific press capable of criticizing it?

Moriarty: . . .everything I have to say has already crossed your mind.

Robert Pinkerton used to say that a lie was like a dead coyote. The longer you leave it, the more it smells.

Professor Moriarty is not a man who lets the grass grow under his feet.

You have heard me speak of Professor Moriarty?” “The famous scientific criminal, as famous among crooks as– –” “My blushes, Watson!” Holmes murmured in a deprecating voice. “I was about to say, as he is unknown to the public.” “A touch! A distinct touch!” cried Holmes. “You are developing a certain unexpected vein of pawky humour, Watson, against which I must learn to guard myself.

German accent, as if he

Robert Pinkerton used to say that a lie was like a dead coyote. The longer you leave it, the more it smells. - Frederick Chase

From the moment I was able to make my own decisions, I became what has come to be called a vegetarian – a word that originated here in England, you might like to know.

hotel

a lie was like a dead coyote. The longer you leave it, the more it smells.

Holmes, Moriarty, they both look the same with the flesh scorched off their skulls.

Give him his due: this is a man who has always faced his fears square on, whether they be a deadly swamp adder, a hideous poison that might drive you to insanity or a hell-hound set loose on the moors. Holmes has done many things that are, frankly, baffling – but he has never run away.

At least it isn't Macbeth," Watson said, hugging a pillow to his chest. "I thought we did Macbeth last year, you and I." "What, starring Lucien Moriarty? In the Scottish access tunnels? Sherringscotland? What does that make you... MacHolmes?" "And you Lady MacHolmes?" I snorted. "I think those are the technical terms, yes.

as we turned the corner and began to walk down the rutted track that led to Staples Inn Gardens. The moment we appeared, the hurdy-gurdy man stopped playing and I recalled that he had behaved in exactly the same way the last time we had come here. It would have been natural for Jones to make straight for the barber’s shop – was that not

You have probably never heard of Professor Moriarty?” said he. “Never.

He was an invisible man with no background and no foreground, and plans, strategies and conspiracies he would have taken with him to the grave.

Do we not learn in the church that evil has a physical presence, that we may feel it like a cold winter or a coming storm? “Deliver us from evil!” We say it every night.

It seemed that there was nothing you could find here that was not expensive and very little that was actually necessary.

From the point of view of the criminal expert,” said Mr. Sherlock Holmes, “London has become a singularly uninteresting city since the death of the late lamented Professor Moriarty.

Then he’s no use to me. I’m a practical man.” “Mr. Mac, the most practical thing that you ever did in your life would be to shut yourself up for three months and read twelve hours a day at the annals of crime. Everything comes in circles—even Professor Moriarty.

My collection of M’s is a fine one,” said he. “Moriarty himself is enough to make any letter illustrious, and here is Morgan the poisoner, and Merridew of abominable memory, and Mathews, who knocked out my left canine in the waiting-room at Charing Cross, and, finally, here is our friend of to-night.

I took the train to New York and it is hard to convey to you my first impressions as I left Grand Central Depot. I found myself in a city of extraordinary opulence and abject poverty, of astonishing elegance and extreme depravity, the two living so close by that I only had to turn my head to pass from one to the other.

Odiava quel luogo – il luogo maledetto come lo aveva battezzato nella sua mente – eppure non poteva negare il forte richiamo che esercitava sulla propria persona. Sarebbe stato capace di individuarlo anche attraverso una folta coltre di nebbia, ritornandoci a occhi chiusi, come farebbe un columba livia con la sua colombaia. Il suo luogo maledetto, le cascate di Reichenbach...

seemed more dead than alive, moving slowly, as if the impact of the water had broken several of his bones. He was not alone. Beatrice Jones, pale and tearful, was holding his hand. Her hair was unbrushed and there were smuts on her face. Her dress was torn and soiled. But she looked unharmed. ‘We don’t give a damn about your dear little daughter!’ Mortlake shouted. ‘It’s you we want. You and your infernal friend.’ ‘We’re here.’ ‘Come closer. Come

No, no, my good sir,” said Holmes. “There is a master hand here. It is no case of sawed-off shotguns and clumsy six-shooters. You can tell an old master by the sweep of his brush. I can tell a Moriarty when I see one. This crime is from London, not from America.” “But for what motive?” “Because it is done by a man who cannot afford to fail, one whose whole unique position depends upon the fact that all he does must succeed. A great brain and a huge organization have been turned to the extinction of one man. It is crushing the nut with the triphammer—an absurd extravagance of energy—but the nut is very effectually crushed all the same.

Ah! Watson, my friend.’ Holmes leaned over to clap his friend on the shoulder. ‘Even a man like me came to accept that there are indeed women with a sharp mind. Although quite rare specimens, one cannot help but run into them once or twice.’ Coughing,

She chastised me roundly for my "failings". I prefer to call them uneven successes.

Dear friends, would those of you who know what this is all about please raise your hands? I think if God is dead he laughed himself to death. Because, you see, we live in Eden. Genesis has got it all wrong. We never left the Garden. Look about you. This is paradise. It's hard to find, I, I'll grant you, but it is here. Under our feet, beneath the surface, all around us is everything we want. The earth is shining under the soot. We are all fools. Ha ha. Moriarty has made fools of all of us. But together, you and I, tonight... we'll bring him down.

On the wide quay, with the massive brick warehouses rising up darkly on his right and the two imposing steamships towering above him on his left, Johnny appeared quite solitary and vulnerable. “Holmes, did young Mr. Rockefeller seem upset to you?” “Youth can be a difficult advantage to bear,” said Holmes.

The Reagan administration took away federal funds for the arts, suggesting that the performing arts seek help from private donors. In New York, two historic Broadway theaters were razed to make way for a luxury fifty-story hotel, after two hundred theater people demonstrated, picketing, reading plays and singing songs, refusing to disperse when ordered by police. Some of the nation’s best-known theater personalities were arrested, including producer Joseph Papp, actresses Tammy Grimes, Estelle Parsons, and Celeste Holm, actors Richard Gere and Michael Moriarty.

Holmes went in for a final attack, fully expecting it to be fended off, and when it was, he hooked Moriarty’s arms around his and pulled backwards, letting gravity do the rest. There was a resigned look on the Professor’s face as they fell, as if he’d been expecting this. Tumbling

The family crest of none other than Professor James Moriarty.” The very name filled me with fear, and my trousers with something that was certainly not fear.

Will the Real Moriarty Please Stand Up?

The secret is to have a quiet heart, and to celebrate each moment of life so as to have no fear of death.

(She’d always loved the Holmes stories. And the Watson stories. And even the Moriarty stories.)

But on the stage I feel—I don’t quite know how to say it. When I sing, it is as natural as breathing, and at that moment I have no care at all what others may think. And I forget that I have no family, because I’m wrapped up in my work. I bet you know what that feels like, to be all wrapped up in your work.” “I do indeed,” said Holmes. “It is the only reward one can be sure of.

Mrs Edith Garrud famously opened a school of jiu-jitsu and trained ‘The Bodyguard’, a group of suffragette sympathisers who protected the leaders of the Suffragette Movement from attack during their public appearances.

Moriarty will have no option now but to move forward, because he knows what we have done, what we are capable of with those weapons – and he knows we are right on his heels. He will have no choice but to come out of hiding... To finally face Holmes once more!

We hadn't had a run-in with the Moriartys in twenty years. Memories fade. It seemed like a good idea at the time." "That'll be written on a few tombstones before this is over," I said. "You have quite the mordant sense of humor.

They were all in bed before daybreak. And they called themselves writers? Amateurs.

I took a shuddering breath. Then I pushed back hard and surged forward, shoving him down onto the floor. He skidded backward until his head hit the concrete wall. I'd been playing a lot of rugby this last year. "I want you to know that I'm not going to kill you," I said, putting my knees down onto his chest. He was conscious, breathing, but there was blood spilling down his forehead into his eyes. "But I want you to know - I don't have any problems hurting you until you listen to me." His breathing was coming hard. "You little shit," he gasped, and at that moment the bathroom door flew open. Charlotte Holmes was standing there in a red dress, pointing a pistol at Lucien Moriarty with both hands. The door snapped shut behind her. "Oh," she said. "I didn't know you had this covered." She put the safety on and slipped the pistol into her bag. There was a commotion in the main dining room. One lone voice, yelling, I saw her, I saw she had a gun - Calmly, Holmes flipped the lock behind her.