83 things from this book went into her brain. Here are the first 6.
In A Scandal in Bohemia, Doyle has Watson describe Holmes as a reasoner whose cold mind refuses strong feeling, because emotion can cloud the judgement that good thinking depends on.
In A Scandal in Bohemia, Holmes separates seeing from observing. Watson has climbed the stairs hundreds of times without noticing how many there are.
In A Scandal in Bohemia, Holmes warns that it is a capital mistake to theorise before you have data, because the mind starts bending facts to suit a theory rather than the reverse.
In A Scandal in Bohemia, Holmes reads small details of a letter, such as how a sentence is built, to work out where its writer comes from. Close attention to the small things narrows a question quickly.
In A Scandal in Bohemia, Holmes keeps a docketed index of people and things, so he can furnish information on almost any subject at once. Good records make hard questions quicker to answer.
In A Scandal in Bohemia, Holmes gets his best information from stable hands and cabmen, people at the edge of the household who see everything and are seldom asked. Look for the quiet people who watch the daily routine.
In A Scandal in Bohemia, Holmes lists the open questions in his case and notes what each answer would change. Knowing which unknown matters most tells you where to spend your effort next.
In A Scandal in Bohemia, Holmes reasons that a valued thing is usually kept where its owner can reach it quickly. He then chooses to ask rather than to search blindly.
In A Scandal in Bohemia, Watson feels ashamed of deceiving a kind woman, yet keeps his word to his friend. He weighs the harm his actions do against the harm they prevent, and that is a test of conscience worth remembering.
In A Scandal in Bohemia, Holmes waits rather than grabbing the photograph while the coachman is watching, because a little over-haste may ruin everything. Patience at the right moment is part of good work.
In A Scandal in Bohemia, Irene Adler only sees through Holmes's disguise after the alarm, and she keeps the photograph as protection rather than revenge. Even the sharpest reasoner can be outwitted, and a clever opponent is worth respecting.
In The Red-Headed League, Holmes argues that life itself is more daring than anything the imagination can invent, so real events can be stranger than fiction.
In The Red-Headed League, Holmes notes that the strangest cases often lie in small matters. A careful listener lets the client tell the whole story before judging what it means.
In The Red-Headed League, Holmes admits his deductions look like magic only because people do not know the method behind them. Explaining the reasoning turns wonder into understanding.
In The Red-Headed League, Jabez Wilson argues himself out of a too-good offer, then decides to check it with his own eyes rather than dismiss it on reasoning alone.
In The Red-Headed League, Holmes observes that the more bizarre a matter looks, the less mysterious it often proves. Plain, featureless facts are the harder ones to read.
In The Red-Headed League, Holmes sits still for a long while to let a problem settle, then moves with purpose once his mind is made up. Thinking before acting is part of good work.
In The Red-Headed League, Watson notes that Holmes's sharpest work came after days of idle rest, when his mind had been allowed to wander. Rest can prepare a mind for a hard job.
In The Red-Headed League, Watson feels dull beside Holmes, who sees what is about to happen where Watson sees only confusion. Watching a sharper mind at work can teach you to look more closely.
In The Red-Headed League, Holmes works out that a strange plan stops looking strange once you ask what it is for. Find the purpose behind an odd action and the rest often follows.
In The Red-Headed League, Holmes follows one small clue, the worn knees of a trouser, to a hidden tunnel. A single well-noticed detail can open up a whole plan.
In The Red-Headed League, Holmes describes his solution as a long chain in which every link must ring true. A good argument holds at every step, not just at the end.
In A Case of Identity, Holmes says the ordinary matters often leave the most room for observation, since the motive behind a large crime is usually obvious and the small ones need a sharper eye.
In A Case of Identity, Holmes holds that the little things are infinitely the most important. A small habit, like a man preferring typed letters less than handwritten ones, can reveal more than a grand statement.
In A Case of Identity, Holmes tells Watson never to trust general impressions and to concentrate on details instead. Careful attention to particulars is where good judgement starts.
In A Case of Identity, Holmes shows that a typewriter, like a handwriting, carries its own quirks, so even a disguised writer can be traced by the marks left on the page.
In A Case of Identity, Holmes asks who actually profits from a strange event. Then he checks each suspicious fact against the others, and the separate facts all point the same way.
In The Boscombe Valley Mystery, Holmes warns that there is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact. Evidence that seems to point one way can point another if you shift your point of view.
In The Boscombe Valley Mystery, Holmes judges a suspect's reaction by whether it fits his position. A calm, frank response can mark an innocent man as easily as a careful one, so no single sign settles the question.
In The Boscombe Valley Mystery, Holmes points out that the critics pick only the strongest points against a suspect. He suggests taking the other version seriously and following where it leads, which is fairer than a verdict built on the worst reading.
In The Boscombe Valley Mystery, Watson weighs each fact by how far it really goes. A blow from behind helps the accused only a little, since the older man may have turned away before it fell.
In The Boscombe Valley Mystery, Holmes waits until he is rested before doing careful work, because a tired mind is a poor tool for fine judgement. Know when you are at your best and save the hard tasks for then.
In The Boscombe Valley Mystery, Holmes says a case often turns on two or three crucial points, and the rest can wait until those are settled. Find the few facts the whole matter depends on.
In The Boscombe Valley Mystery, Holmes asks why a man would press so hard for a match the other party opposed. Ask why a fact is odd, because the oddity is often the clue.
In The Boscombe Valley Mystery, Holmes narrows a whole district to one kind of man, using a dying word, a map and a few small facts. Patient inference from trifles can shrink a vague problem to a clear one.
In The Boscombe Valley Mystery, Holmes says that anyone could have fallen as the killer did, and that only good fortune keeps most of us clear of it. Judging others with that humility keeps a detective fair.
In The Five Orange Pips, Watson recalls how Holmes settled a poisoning case by reading a dead man's watch, showing that an ordinary object, checked carefully, can fix the time of events.
In The Five Orange Pips, Holmes admits he has been beaten four times, three by men and once by a woman. A good reasoner owns his losses plainly and does not pretend to a perfect record.
In The Five Orange Pips, a father refuses to take a real warning seriously and forbids the police, because he would rather not look foolish. Pride can keep a person from the help that would protect them.
In The Five Orange Pips, Holmes tells a frightened client that safety comes first, then understanding the mystery, and that revenge can wait. Put the most urgent need at the front of the queue.
In The Five Orange Pips, Holmes says a skilled observer who understands one link in a chain of events can work out the others. A single well-understood fact can reveal the whole sequence.
In The Five Orange Pips, Holmes says a person should keep in the mind what they are likely to use and store the rest where it can be fetched when needed. Know what you use daily and where to find the rest.
In The Five Orange Pips, Holmes reads the delay between each threat and its deed as a clue to how far the sender had to travel. The time between events can itself be evidence.
In The Five Orange Pips, Holmes admits that a client's death hurts his pride and makes the case personal. Admitting what drives you is more honest than pretending to be a neutral observer.
In The Man with the Twisted Lip, Watson notes that people in grief came to his wife like birds to a lighthouse. Being a steady, kind presence draws others to you when they need help.
In The Man with the Twisted Lip, Holmes values Watson's silence because it lets him think aloud. A quiet listener who does not interrupt can help a thinker as much as any advice.
In The Man with the Twisted Lip, Holmes takes a theory as a working hypothesis when nothing better is available, while admitting the questions are still open. A useful theory is held loosely enough to drop when the facts disagree.
In The Man with the Twisted Lip, Holmes shows that a sign which looks like a cry for help may have an ordinary explanation. Test the obvious reading against the other possibilities before you act on it.
In The Man with the Twisted Lip, Holmes turns a hard problem over for days, rearranging the facts and looking at it from every side, until he either solves it or knows his data is not enough. Patient turning-over is how hard problems give way.
In The Man with the Twisted Lip, Holmes admits he has been as blind as a mole, and says it is better to learn wisdom late than never. Owning an error and correcting course is part of thinking well.
In The Man with the Twisted Lip, Holmes tells a man who hid his secret that he would have done better to trust his wife. Concealment often costs more in the end than the truth would have.
In The Blue Carbuncle, Holmes notes that a crowded city produces many odd events that are strange without being criminal. Not every puzzle is a crime, and it helps to tell them apart.
In The Blue Carbuncle, Holmes tells Watson that he sees everything but fails to reason from it, and is too timid in drawing inferences. Good observation needs the nerve to draw a conclusion and hold it with suitable care.
In The Blue Carbuncle, Arthur Conan Doyle shows Holmes reading a man's habits from small marks, like five tallow stains, and reasoning from evidence rather than guesswork.
In The Blue Carbuncle, Holmes says to try the simplest means first, such as a plain advertisement, and only then turn to harder methods.
In The Blue Carbuncle, Holmes notes that a man drawn into a wager gives away far more than he would if simply asked, because he forgets to guard what he says.
In The Blue Carbuncle, Doyle shows how the temptation of sudden, easily gained wealth can overwhelm a man who has never gone wrong before, and how quickly the temptation turns to ruin.
In The Blue Carbuncle, Ryder's guilt makes every passer-by look like a policeman, so Doyle shows that a frightened conscience can be its own worst watchman.
In The Blue Carbuncle, Holmes lets a frightened thief go, reasoning that a man already shaken into repentance may be saved, while a prison sentence could make him a criminal for life.
In The Adventure of the Speckled Band, Doyle traces the Roylott family's ruin to generations of waste, and shows the son rebuilding his life by adapting to new conditions and applying his own skill.
