Dust and Shadow: An Account of the Ripper Killings by Dr. John H. Watson

by Lyndsay Faye

“Pulvis et umbra sumus,” Holmes remarked that night, staring into the fire with his long arms cast thoughtfully about his drawn-up knees. “You and I, Watson, Annie Chapman, even the revered Horace himself—dust and the shadow cast by it, merely that and nothing more.”

We must put your skills to use, for there is no greater tragedy on God’s green earth than that of untapped talent.”

Mend quickly; your death would be most inconvenient at this time.’ ”

“After all, is mental illness a sickness of the soul, degeneracy of stock, or a defect of the brain? What you propose is an entirely new form of madness—a monomania lurking beneath a rational mind, aiding itself and disguising itself. Your idea comes closer to the classical definition of pure malevolence than any maniac who lashes out with a frenzied knife. You speak of a complete moral degeneracy, assisted by an affable exterior and a shrewd intelligence.”

I am under no delusions regarding my chances of success should I ever shrug off the constraints of civilization, my dear fellow. I fear I would prove entirely unstoppable.”

There is a great deal of brotherly feeling amongst followers of that particular vice.

“I believe it is the sole business of government to invent elaborate impediments to swift action,”

“But it is the maximal error, the unpardonable sin, if you will, to twist facts to suit theories rather than twisting theories to suit facts.