The Complete Sherlock Holmes 3 csillagozás
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Másfél hónapig tartott, de minden percéért megérte. Sherlock Holmes egyszerűen zseniális. A kissé régies angol szöveg pedig szinte az elképzelhetetlenségig fokozza az élvezeteket. Külön boldogság számomra, hogy volt olyan rész, amit megfejtettem, mielőtt… azt nem mondhatom, hogy még Holmes előtt, mert az lehetetlen, de legalábbis azelőtt, hogy elárulta volna a megoldást.
A végén egyetlen dolog miatt volt rossz érzésem, az pedig az volt, hogy elolvastam az összes Holmes történetet. Mi lesz most velem? Kénytelen leszek felkutatni az elveszett novellákat, vagy a filmekhez fordulni vigasztalásért.
'My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people don't know.'
The Blue Carbuncle
'It is part of the settled order of Nature that such a girl should have followers,' said Holmes, as he pullad at his meditative pipe, 'but for choice not on bicycles in lonely country roads.'
The Solitary Cyclist
'By the way, doctor, I shall want your co-operation.'
'I shall be delighted.'
'You don't mind breaking the law?'
'Not in the least.'
'Nor running a chance of arrest?'
'Not in a good cause.'
'Oh, the cause is excellent!'
'Then I am your man.'
A Scandal in Bohemia
'Between ourselves, I think Mr Holmes has not quite got over his illness yet. He's been behaving very queerly, and he is very much excited.'
'I don't think you need alarm yourself,' said I. 'I have usually found that there was method in his madness.'
'Some folks might say there was madness in his method,' muttered the inspector.
The Reigate Squires
During my long and intimate acquaintance with Mr. Sherlock Holmes I had never heard him refer to his relations, and hardly ever to his own early life. This reticence upon his part had increased the somewhat inhuman effect which he produced upon me, until sometimes I found myself regarding him as an isolated phenomenon, a brain without a heart, as deficient in human sympathy as he was pre-eminent in intelligence. His aversion to women and his disinclination to form new friendships were both typical of his unemotional character, but not more so than his complete suppression of every reference to his own people. I had come to believe that he was an orphan with no relatives living, but one day, to my very great surprise, he began to talk to me about his brother.
The Greek Interpreter
There are many men in London, you know, who, some from shyness, some from misanthropy, have no wish for the company of their fellows. Yet they are not averse to comfortable chairs and the latest periodicals. It is for the convenience of these that the Diogenes Club was started, and it now contains the most unsociable and unclubable men in town. No member is permitted to take the least notice of any other one. Save in the Stranger's Room, no talking is, under any circumstances, allowed, and three offences, if brought to the notice of the committee, render the talker liable to expulsion. My brother was one of the founders, and I have myself found it a very soothing atmosphere.
The Greek Interpreter
Her [Mrs Hudson's] cuisine is a little limited, but she has as good an idea of breakfast as a Scotchwoman.
The Naval Treaty
He had gone out before breakfast, and I had sat down to mine, when he strode into the room, his hat upon his head and a huge barbed-headed spear tucked like an umbrella under his arm.
'Good gracious, Holmes!' I cried. 'You don't mean to say that you have been walking about London with that thing?'
'I drove to the butcher's and back.'
'And I return with an excellent appetite. There can be no question, my dear Watson, of the value of exercise before breakfast. But I am prepared to bet that you will not guess the form that my exercise has taken.'
'I will not attempt it.'
He chuckled as he poured out the coffee.
'If you could have looked into Allardyce's back shop you would have seen a dead pig swung from a hook in the ceiling, and a gentleman in his shirtsleeves furiously stabbing at it with this weapon. I was that energetic person, and I have satisfied myself that by no exertion of my strength can I transfix the pig with a single blow. Perhaps you would care to try?'
'Not for worlds.'
An anomaly which often struck me in the character of my friend Sherlock Holmes was that, although in his methods of thought he was the neatest and most methodical of mankind, and although also he affected a certain quiet primness of dress, he was none the less in his personal habits one of the most untidy men that ever drove a fellow-lodger to distraction. Not that I am in the least conventional in that respect myself. The rough-and-tumble work in Afghanistan, coming on the top of a natural Bohemianism of disposition, has made me rather more lax than befits a medical man who keeps his cigars in the coal-scuttle, his tobacco in the toe end of a Persian slipper, and his unanswered correspondence transfixed by a jack-knife into the very centre of his wooden mantelpiece, then I begin to give myself virtuous airs. I have always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly an open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer humors, would sit in an arm-chair with his hair-trigger and a hundred Boxer cartridges, and proceed to adorn the opposite wall with a patriotic V. R. Done in bullet-pocks, I felt strongly that neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of our room was improved by it.
Our chambers were always full of chemicals and of criminal relics which had a way of wandering into unlikely positions, and of turning up in the butter-dish or in even less desirable places. But his papers were my great crux. He had a horror of destroying documents, especially those which were connected with his past cases, and yet it was only once in every year or two that he would muster energy to docket and arrange them; for, as I have mentioned somewhere in these incoherent memoirs, the outbursts of passionate energy when he performed the remarkable feats with which his name is associated were followed by reactions of lethargy during which he would lie about with his violin and his books, hardly moving save from the sofa to the table. Thus month after month his papers accumulated, until every corner of the room was stacked with bundles of manuscript which were on no account to be burned, and which could not be put away save by their owner.
The Musgrave Ritual
Near the foot of the bed stood a dish of oranges and a carafe of water. As we passed it Holmes, to my unutterable astonishment, leaned over in front of me and deliberately knocked the whole thing over. The glass smashed into a thousand pieces and the fruit rolled about into every corner of the room.
'You've done it now, Watson,' said he, coolly. 'A pretty mess you've made of the carpet.'
The Reigate Squires
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