Someone ever tries to kill you, you try to kill ‚em right back! Yes sir, Captain Tightpants! Here lies my beloved Zoe, my autumn flower … somewhat less attractive now that she’s all corpsified and gross. How did your brain even learn human speech? Ten percent of nothin‘ is … let me do the math here … nothin‘ into nothin‘ … carry the nothin‘ … Mercy is the mark of a great man. Guess I’m just a good man. Well, I’m all right. Next time you want to stab me in the back, have the guts to do it to my face. You know what the chain of command is? It’s the chain I go get and beat you with until you understand who’s in ruttin charge here.
Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius. You will not apply my precept. How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth? We know that he did not come through the door, the window, or the chimney. We also know that he could not have been concealed in the room, as there is no concealment possible. When, then, did he come?

You see, but you do not observe. The distinction is clear. I have always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly an open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer humours, would sit in an armchair 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. You will not apply my precept. How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth? We know that he did not come through the door, the window, or the chimney. We also know that he could not have been concealed in the room, as there is no concealment possible. When, then, did he come?

Really? Did nothing cancel? No! I was ashamed to be SEEN with you. I like being with you. I care deeply for nature. That’s why you always leave a note!

Am I a lion? I don’t think of myself as a lion. You might as well, though, I have a mighty roar. I’ve been under fire before. Well … I’ve been in a fire. Actually, I was fired. I can handle myself. Psychic, though? That sounds like something out of science fiction. We live in a spaceship, dear. Here lies my beloved Zoe, my autumn flower … somewhat less attractive now that she’s all corpsified and gross. You’re welcome on my boat. God ain’t. Just get us on the ground! That part will happen pretty definitely!