Intelligent, fine. Let's give "smart-arse" a wide berth.
— So why are you talking to me?
— Mrs Hudson took my skull.
— So I'm basically filling in for your skull?
— Relax, you're doing fine.
You... you told me once.... that you weren't a hero. Erm, there were times when I didn't even think you were human, but let me tell you this, you were...the best man...the most human...human being that I've ever known and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, so... there. I was so alone and I owe you so much. But please, there's just one more thing, one more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me, don't be... dead. Would you do that just for me? Just stop it. Stop this.
— No, no, no! Course he's not the boy's father. Look at turn-ups on his jeans!
— I knew it was dangerous. Getting you into crap telly.
— You don't seem very afraid.
— You don't seem very frightening.
— No, I know you for real.
— 100 percent?
— Well, nobody could fake being such an annoying dick all the time.
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