Quotes about Investigation

My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people do not know.

Nothing will so enlarge the intellect, nothing so magnify the whole soul of man, as a devout, earnest, continued, investigation of the great subject of the Deity. The most excellent study for expanding the soul is the science of Christ and Him crucified and the knowledge of the Godhead in the glorious Trinity" (C. H. Spurgeon).

Facing issues of this magnitude, it's unreasonable to think that anyone comes to the investigation with no personal hopes or preexisting beliefs.

I went into science a great deal myself at one time; but I saw it would not do. It leads to everything; you can let nothing alone.

It would be great to do a story and get somebody who is innocent out of jail. That's a wonderful thing.

I mean, it's not just one day you get up, bang, and you got Osama bin Laden. It's the kind of thing where an awful lot of people over a long period of time - thousands have worked this case and these issues and followed on the leads and captured bad guys and interrogated them and so-forth.

Every art or applied science and every systematic investigation, and similarly every action and choice, seem to aim at some good; the good, therefore, has been well defined as that at which all things aim.

those who inquire into the number of existents: for they inquire whether the ultimate constituents of existing things are one or many, and if many, whether a finite or an infinite plurality.

You know my method. It is founded upon the observation of trifles.

Beyond the obvious facts that he has at some time done manual labour, that he takes snuff, that he is a Freemason, that he has been in China, and that he has done a considerable amount of writing lately, I can deduce nothing else.

He said that there were no traces upon the ground round the body. He did not observe any. but I did - some little distance off, but fresh and clear Footprints? Footprints. A man's or a woman's? Dr. Mortimer looked strangely at us for an instant, and his voice sank almost to a whisper as he answered: Mr Holmes, they were the footprints of s gigantic hound!

Come, Watson, come!' he cried. 'The game is afoot. Not a word! Into your clothes and come!' Ten minutes later we were both in a cab and rattling through the silent streets on our way to Charing Cross Station.