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Cytaty z tagiem "knifeedge" [7]
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Is your whole life like this? Sherlock asked.
"Like what?"
"Double- and triple-guessing the actions not only of everyone around you, but also of yourself?"
Mycroft considered for a moment. "Yes," he said finally. "Yes, I believe it is. It is called "international diplomacy"."
Sherlock laughed quietly. "I don't think I could do the job that you do, Mycroft. My thoughts are very direct: "A" always leads to "B" in my world. Tour thoughts twist and turn in all directions, apparently depending on the time of day, the ambient temperature and the wind direction."
Mycroft turned and gazed sympathetically at Sherlock.
"And that," he said quietly, "is why I envy you. My mind is already affected by what I do. I can never unwind those twists and turns. Your mind, by contrast, is so much simpler - and therefore so much happier.".
Sherlock glanced around at the faces of the others. They held a range of expression was, of course, on his brother's face.
Very clever." Mycroft relaxed back into his chair. "Your mind is so sharp, Sherlock, that you will end up cutting yourself one day.".
Crowe nodded. "That's the problem with the truth son. It don't please a lot of people, because it upsets the neat little applecart of their world. Don't mean that you should avoid the truth, though. You should never do that. You just need to be aware that you'll have fewer friends because of it, but also that the ones who stay will be better friends".
Sighing, he turned and followed Virginia. Women, he decided, were not logical and they were not predictable, and they seemed actively to encourage that behavior in men. He wasn't sure that he wanted to play that game.
Very clever." Mycroft relaxed back into his chair. "Your mind is so sharp, Sherlock, that you will end up cutting yourself one day.".
He thought about what his brother had said, about him taking up a career in banking. He honestly couldn't see that happening. He wasn't going to go into the Civil Service, like his brother, either, and he certainly wasn't going to join the Army like his father. But what did that leave? Going back to sea? Setting up a trading company and importing foodstuffs and silk from China?
It suddenly occurred to him that the past few days, when he had been set a series of problems to solve and had pretty much solved them all, had been some of the best fun he'd had for ages. He liked solving problems. It satisfied an itch inside his brain. He had particularly liked seeing the expressions on the faces of von Webenau, Herr Holtzbrink, and Count Shucalow when he explained on his own brother's face when Mycroft had seen the cardboard model of the tower. It had been a thrill, and he wanted to see if he could get that thrill again. The problem was that he didn't see how he could make that into a career. The closest he could come to it would be joining the police force, but he really didn't see himself in uniform, and his experience of the police, albeit limited do far, was that they turned up at the scene of a crime, said some things that were already obvious to everyone, and arrested the nearest suspicious-looking men.