Why was the mind said to have an eye and not a hand, or a tongue? Perhaps touch, taste, odour, sound were linked to the heart rather than the intellect.
. . the first spring in five free from the rumour of guns across the Channel, a spring anxious to make up for the cold winter, life bursting out after four years of death. All of England raised her fa...
I was fifteen when I first met Sherlock Holmes, fifteen years old with my nose in a book as I walked the Sussex Downs, and nearly stepped on him. In my defense I must say it was an engrossing book, an...
When we arrived at his cottage we had known each other forever.
I would have stolen it for you, had I known you were interested. His voice was muffled by the door to the lumber room down the hallway, and I heard thumps and a crash.I raised my voice a trifle more t...
Do to have
That's what tears are for, you know, to wash away the fear and cool the hate.
I took to the Bodleian library as to a lover and ... would sit long hours in Bodley's arms to emerge, blinking and dazed with the smell and feel of all those books.
I took the broom and made a wild sweep along the workbench, and an edge of the unwieldy head sent a tray of tools flying. Patrick picked up a chipped chisel and looked at me as if I had attacked his s...
I told you it was a backwoods. They probably still practice corn sacrifice.
I think not. I find short hair too much fuss, always needing combing and cutting. Long hair is much easier, oddly enough. There
I looked back to see Holmes mincing within my footsteps, his skirt drawn up to reveal the trousers below. Were it not for the threat hanging over us, I would have given out with a girlish giggle at th...
If she was finished.
These last weeks, since Christmas, have been odd ones. I have begun to doubt that I knew you as well as I thought. I have even wondered if you wished to keep some part of yourself hidden from me in or...
Why the devil was my husband positively grinning - and with what looked remarkably like relief?
Youth does not inspire confidence, in life or in stories,
I became, in other words, more like Holmes than the man himself: brilliant, driven to a point of obsession, careless of myself, mindless of others, but without the passion and the deep-down, inbred lo...
I am watching bees.
I am getting old, Russell. Gone are the days when I could scramble about on the moors all day and curl up happily at night with a thin blanket and a stone for a pillow. Three nights on floorboards and...
However, the mind has an amazing ability to continue worrying away at a problem all on its own, so that when the Eureka! comes it is as mysterious as if it were God speaking.
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