| Quote | Author | Source | Email Quote |
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| I did not know the woman soul, that crowning gift of Providence to man, which, if we do not ourselves degrade it, will set an edge to all that is good in us. I did not know how the love of a woman will tinge a man's whole life and every action with unselfishness. I did not know how easy it is to be noble when some one else takes it for granted that one will be so; or how wide and interesting life becomes when viewed by four eyes instead of two. | Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | The Stark Munro Letters |  |
| Still, I have no love for the cloth. Just as cotton, which is in itself the most harmless substance in the world, becomes dangerous on being dipped into nitric acid, so the mildest of mortals is to be feared if he is once soaked in sectarian religion. | Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | The Stark Munro Letters | |
| Are you conscious of the restful influence which the stars exert? To me they are the most soothing things in Nature. I am proud to say that I don't know the name of one of them. The glamour and romance would pass away from them if they were all classified and ticketed in one's brain. But when a man is hot and flurried, and full of his own little ruffled dignities and infinitesimal misfortunes, then a star bath is the finest thing in the world. | Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | The Stark Munro Letters | |
| I have my own views about Nature's methods, though I feel that it is rather like a beetle giving his opinions upon the Milky Way. | Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | The Stark Munro Letters | |
| A man loses his fortune; he gains earnestness. His eyesight goes; it leads him to a spirituality. The girl loses her beauty; she becomes more sympathetic. We think we are pushing our own way bravely, but there is a great Hand in ours all the time. | Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | The Stark Munro Letters | |
| We surely know by some nameless instinct more about our futures than we think we know. | Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | The Stark Munro Letters | |
| Slate-coloured clouds with ragged fringes are drifting slowly overhead. Between them one has a glimpse of higher clouds of a lighter gray. I can hear the gentle swish of the rain striking a clearer note on the gravel path and a duller among the leaves. Sometimes it falls straight and heavy, till the air is full of the delicate gray shading, and for half a foot above the ground there is a haze from the rebound of a million tiny globules. | Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | The Stark Munro Letters | |
| Some eighty thousand years are supposed to have existed between paleolithic and neolithic man. Yet in all that time he only learned to grind his flint stones instead of chipping them. But within our father's lives what changes have there not been? The railway and the telegraph, chloroform and applied electricity. Ten years now go further than a thousand then, not so much on account of our finer intellects as because the light we have shows us the way to more. Primeval man stumbled along with peering eyes, and slow, uncertain footsteps. Now we walk briskly towards our unknown goal. | Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | The Stark Munro Letters | |
| What did we care, any one of the three of us, where we sat or how we lived, when youth throbbed hot in our veins, and our souls were all aflame with the possibilities of life? | Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | The Stark Munro Letters | |
| At last, however, his conversation became unbearable--a foul young man is odious, but a foul old one is surely the most sickening thing on earth. One feels that the white upon the hair, like that upon the mountain, should signify a height attained. | Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | The Stark Munro Letters | |
