— 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.

Anybody who wears a hat as stupid as this isn't in the habit of hanging around other people, is he?

— I didn't know you spoke Serbian.
— I didn't. But the language has a Slavic root. Frequent Turkish and German loan words. Took me a couple of hours.
— Hmm, you're slipping.
— Middle-age, brother mine. Comes to us all.

You know, for a genius, you can be remarkably thick. I don't care how you faked it, Sherlock. I want to know why.

— Well, think of something.
— Why do you think I know what to do?
— Cos you're Sherlock Holmes, you're as clever as it gets.
— It doesn't mean I know how to diffuse a giant bomb! What about you?
— I wasn't a bomb disposal, I'm a bloody doctor!
— And a soldier, as you keep reminding us all.

— How could you do that? How?!
— Wait, before you do anything that you might regret, one question, just let me ask one question. Are you really going to keep that?

— John, what is it?
— Well, the short version... not dead.

— Let's do deductions. Client left this while I was out, what do you reckon?
— I'm busy.
— Oh, go on, it's been an age.
— I always win.
— Which is why you can't resist.
— I find nothing irresistible in a hat of a well-travelled anxious, sentimental, unfit creature of habit with appalling halitosis. Damn.

— No. We'll have to get rid of that.
— "We"?
— He looks ancient. I can't be seen to be wandering around with an old man.

— Gosh, you don't know anything about human nature, do you?
— Hmm, nature? No. Human? No.