When I see the face but for an instant, I know the back is only a jest.

Bad is so bad, that we cannot but think good an accident; good is so good, that we feel certain that evil could be explained.

But the whole came to a kind of crest yesterday when I raced Sunday for the cab, and was just behind him all the way." "Had you time for thinking then ?" asked Ratcliffe.
"Time," replied Syme, "for one outrageous thought.

I was suddenly possessed with the idea that the blind, blank back of his head really was his face--an awful, eyeless face staring at me! And I fancied that the figure running in front of me was really a figure running backwards, and dancing as he ran." "Horrible!" said Dr.Bull, and shuddered.
"Horrible is not the word," said Syme.

"It was exactly the worst instant of my life.