— That was the doorbell. Couldn't you hear it?
— It's in the fridge. It kept ringing.
— Oh, that's not a fault, Sherlock!

— Mr Holmes, if it was the end of the world, if this was the very last night... would you have dinner with me?
— Sherlock!
— Too late.
— That's not the end of the world, that's Mrs Hudson.

— Mrs. Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food.
— I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper.
— Something cold will do.

— Imagine someone's going to get murdered at a wedding. Who exactly would you pick?
— I think you're a popular choice at the moment, dear.

— Both of you?
— Impossible suicides? Four of them? No point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!

— Cameras, we're being watched.
— What?! Cameras? Here? I'm in my nightie!

— I wish you could have worn the antlers.
— Some things are best left to the imagination, Mrs Hudson.

— How's the hip?
— It's atrocious, but thanks for asking.
— I've seen much worse, but then I do post-mortems.

— Shut up, Mrs Hudson.
— I haven't said a word!
— You're formulating a question, it's physically painful watching you think.

— I'm bringing you your morning tea. You're not usually awake.
— You bring me tea in the morning?
— Well, where do you think it came from?
— I don't know. I just thought it sort of happened.

— Listen, has he ever had any kind of girl-friend, boyfriend, a relationship, ever?
— I don't know.
— How can we not know?
— He's Sherlock. How will we ever know what goes on in that funny old head?

— I've written a blog on the varying tensile strengths of diffirent natural fibres.
— I'm sure there's a crying need for that!

— I just can't believe it! Him sitting in his chair again. Oh, isn't it wonderful, Mr Holmes?
— I can barely contain myself.
— Oh, he really can, you know.