A Question of Holmes Quotes

“I love you. I've never in my life loved anything more.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“I came at her like a snake.
"I am fully done with other people telling me what to do with my history," I said. "My past made me who I am. There is no way to wipe it clean. I am the evidence. If you look at me and see track marks and too-skinny arms and hands that know how to hold a gun and a brain that is sharper and faster than yours, then that is not my problem. Do you hear me? I have regrets, and I have made mistakes, but I am who I am. I'm done pretending that I've wholly remade myself, that I'm going to ... to hie myself away in some lecture hall for the next four years to make you all comfortable." She was backed up against the door, now, her arms wrapped around herself, and I didn't care. "If you want to stop seeing it, you'll have to stop seeing me, and I am not going to disappear.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“Every version of you is interesting to me.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“When we first met, I had only been trying to survive, and he had snuck in, somehow, when I was at my lowest, and now I didn’t know myself without him.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“After Watson held a pillow so that I could punch it, after he'd cried in the bathroom where he thought I couldn't hear, we put on sweatpants and went down to the twenty-four-hour-off-license and bought as much ice-cream as we could carry.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“Holmes, I don’t mind it. there are worse things in the world than making new friends. Murder. Kidnapping. Scorpions.
“I’d take the scorpions over socialising any day.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“In that moment, I loved him more than anything else.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“I couldn’t atone for anyone’s mistakes, but I had two hands, and I could help.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“Anwen uncrossed her arms, adjusted her skirt. She glanced from me to Watson. "If it's not an imposition," she said. "You can come too, Jamie. If you want."
At that, I pinched his leg.
"No!" he yelped. "No, go on. I, ah. Have a lecture."
"Are you sure?" I ask him, sniffling.
"I'm sure," he said, and reached out, very gently, to brush away a tear from my face. His dark eyes softened. He really was a better actor than I gave him credit for. "I'll see you later, pumpkin."
As I led Anwen out to the street, I texted from my bag:
Watson?
Yes, pumpkin?
New condition: you cease and desist all gourd-related nicknames.
Done. But pinch me again, and I'll start calling you pickle.
Do that, and I will find and them publish your diaries in a website with a vociferous comments section. Thought I was not a gourd, I was most definitely not a vinegar-soaked phallic object.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“Once, I had loved her so much it was like a needle through my heart. Maybe I still did. Somehow, though, it seemed beside the point.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“I am fully done with other people telling me what to do with my history. My past made me who I am. There is no way to wipe it clean. I am the evidence. If you look at me and see track marks and too-skinny arms and hands that know how to hold a gun and a brain that is sharper and faster than yours, then that is not my problem. Do you hear me? I have regrets, and I have made mistakes, but I am who I am. I’m done pretending that I’ve wholly remade myself, that I’m going to…to hide myself away in some lecture hall for the next four years to make you all comfortable. If you want to stop seeing it, you’ll have to stop seeing me, and I am not going to disappear.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“I’m not sure what I expected; largely, I try not to expect anything at all. Life is empathetically disappointing to those who expect it to be otherwise.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“You’re lucky I adore you.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“That was your brilliant plan?" I whispered. I turned my T-shirt so the spatter of blood faced my back, then slipped my jacket on over the top.
"You," he said, sitting on the bed, "were in a state of déshabillé.¨
¨Since when do you speak French?"
"I did suffer through two solid years of class with Monsieur Cann," he said. "I wasn't sleeping the whole time."
"No, of course not. You woke up during the lesson on how to describe the scandalously underdressed."
"I also know in flagrante," he said, "and coitus interruptus -"
"That's Latin," I protested, but he was laughing.
"I hope it was worth it." He swept a hand across the room. "Did you find what you needed?"
"I always do."
Watson's eyes crinkled at the corners. He didn't pry further. How glorious that was; it gave my mind time to sort and contextualize what I'd found.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“Then my biggest concern," he was saying, "are the nightmares I'm going to have about all the morgue poems you're going to write. The murder poems. The I made this poison for you, poor swain poems -"
"I have layers," I reminded him. "What if all my poems were about my grandmother?"
"You have a grandmother?"
"I didn't spring whole from the head of Zeus."
"Scary. Pass."
"Kittens, then," I said. We had made it to the steps of my lecture hall. "I could write about kittens. Tulips. My future wedding -"
"Completely terrifying."
I squeezed his elbow. I adored him.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“For once, Watson didn't look the worse for wear. He never fared well on planes across the Atlantic, sleeping fitfully or not at all, but this morning his hair was so extravagantly tousled, I knew he'd spent the whole flight unconscious. Though the red lines near his temple (striated; elastic?) flummoxed me until -
"You had on a sleeping mask," I said, delighted beyond all sense. "Tell me, was it one of those with the eyelashes printed on it? Was it silk? Was it your mother's, or -?"
He pulled it from his pocket and tossed it to me; I caught it one-handed. Black silk, sans eyelashes. "You're a jerk," he said, laughing. "I bought it in the terminal."
"Why would I be a jerk? I'm only asking about your beauty sleep.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“At least it isn't Macbeth," Watson said, hugging a pillow to his chest.
"I thought we did Macbeth last year, you and I."
"What, starring Lucien Moriarty? In the Scottish access tunnels? Sherringscotland? What does that make you... MacHolmes?"
"And you Lady MacHolmes?" I snorted. "I think those are the technical terms, yes.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“Did you know that only older forests grow the sort of fungi that feeds the variety of orchid called Goodyera pubescens—”

“You’re making that up.”

“I promise you, I’m not making up mushroom facts for your amusement.”

“Pubescens? Pubescent orchid?” He snorted. “Has it grown a little stupid mustache? Does it skateboard?”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“You can call him," I said, watching his brows knit, his eyes shutter. "Talk through it all. At which point, you can forgive him, or you can tell him to go to hell."
"Pass."
"Or you could never call him again."
Watson snorted. "There. A workable plan. Anyway, I thought you were the one asking for advice on Milo."
"Fine. Enumerate my options, please."
"You can call him. At which point, you can forgive him, or you can tell him to go to hell."
"You're funny," I told him. "Hilarious."
"Or you can never call him ever again. Or -"
"Precisely. Fuck him.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“The door was locked - another difficult detail to explain away if we were caught inside. Sighing, I pulled my picks from my bag and got to work.
"To think," Watson said, "I used to wonder why girls carried purses."
"We need somewhere to keep our mace." I smiled as the lock shifted and gave under my hands. "Will you keep watch on the landing? Think of some suitable explanation if we're caught."
He leaned to look inside. "As long as your plan isn't to go out that window," he said, taking in the four-story view.
"My father trained me for every eventuality," I said, and left the door cracked as I slipped inside.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“I took a minute to marvel at the space he'd been given. Tall ceilings that sloped with the ceiling of the turret. A full-sized bed, chairs and a coffee table, a pair of casement windows that overlooked the St. Genesius chapel. The walls were plastered white. A fireplace at the far corner was heaped with wood, and I walked over to touch it. It looked a hundred years old.
Watson leaned against the wall. "I want to use that to dramatically burn a letter at least once before this program's over."
"Fireplaces," I informed him, "are wasted on teenage boys."
"I'm not arguing with you there.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“It’s not a secret. A secret is something embarrassing. Something compromising, something with power. Secrets are what we make art from.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“But grief did strange things to you. Made you see yourself at a distance.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“He wound his fingers into my hair and kissed me, a promise in a language I couldn’t yet speak.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“It’s a relief, sometimes, isn’t it?”
“To disappear, or be the one watching?”
“Both.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“You were going to let me drown!" he protested, pushing us off again
"Yes, in knee deep water. It would take some skill, but I believe in you”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“So you're saying," I clarified, "that you can punt only middling-well for a sober person."
"Do I need to make this thing do backflips?" Watson asked, and dug the pole into the muck. Our boat tilted crazily to the right. I made a high-pitched sound, then clapped a hand over my mouth.
"You squealed. Did you just squeal?"
"If you have to ask," I said, with some dignity, "then no, I did not."
He dug in the pole again, and we spun in a neat circle.
I bit my lip when he laughed at me. :Jamie, I swear to God I will pull this boat over -"
He lifted the pole again, threateningly. I lunged forward, and Watson leaned backward, and then began windmilling his free arm to keep his balance. I considered pushing him in, but the water smelled a bit like bad fish, and anyway, I liked his shirt too much to ruin it.
"You were going to let me drown," he protested, pushing us off again.
"Yes. In knee-deep water. It would take some skill, but I believe in you.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“Don't be disappointed. You don't actually want someone to read your whole history from your body. Can you imagine what I'd be able to tell you about what you've done the past few days?"
Watson's eyes flickered to my bedroom door and back again.
"Dear God," she said "now I know. An idiot would know. Never mind that. Have some more cheese.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“I had never in my life made something for someone else that wasn't a cup of tea. True, I could download a food app on my phone or leaf through one of the cookbooks Leander kept on the counter (though I didn't want to consider why he owned a copy of 38 Meals for Your Picky Toddler), but I was intelligent. I was capable. I could figure this out for myself.
An hour later, I nudged open the bedroom door, carrying a tray.
Watson sat up on his elbows. "What do you have there?" he asked, his voice coated in sleep.
"I made you breakfast."
"How domestic of you." He picked up his glasses from the bedside table and put them on. "That's - that's a rather large plate you've got there. Plates?"
"This is tray one of four," I said, placing it at the end of the bed.
He blinked at me. Perhaps he was still tired.
"Don't begin eating until you see all your options," I told him, and went off to fetch the next platter.
By the time I'd arranged it all on my coverlet to my satisfaction, Watson had roused himself appropriately. He'd put on one of my oversized sleep shirts - CHEMISTRY IS FOR LOVERS - and poured himself a cup of coffee. That surprised me; he usually took tea.
"I need real caffeine to deal with this.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes

“Precollege program orientation was scheduled for two days after Watson arrived, and I discovered a few things in the meantime.
1. My uncle Leander has a memory like a steel trap. He took Watson and I to the all-you-can-eat Indian buffet around the corner from our flat, to the antiquarian bookshop to look at first editions of Faulkner, to the teahouse painted to look like a starry night, all of which Watson had mentioned in passing that he loved, and whose repetition now left Watson in a state of expansive joy.
2. I should have found this delightful. I did not. As, throughout all of this, Leander referred to Watson as my boyfriend.
2b. Loudly.
2c. He did this as often as he could.
2d. To wit: "A latte for my niece and her young man"; "Charlotte, wasn't that your Jamie's favorite, A Light in August? Faulkner's later work -"; "Child, go and get your boyfriend another napkin, we aren't barbarians/" And then that smile Leander had, something like a wolf after eating a fat peasant child.”
― Brittany Cavallaro, A Question of Holmes