Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius.
It is, I admit, mere imagination; but how often is imagination the mother of truth?
I say, Watson,’ he whispered, ‘would you be afraid to sleep in the same room as a lunatic, a man with softening of the brain, an idiot whose mind has lost its grip?’ ‘Not in the least,’ I answered in astonishment. ‘Ah, that’s lucky,’ ...
