Watson Quotes in The Hunt for Red October (1990)

[telling young Sonarman Beaumont about Jones's most embarrassing moment]

Watson: Seaman Jones here is into music in a big way, and he views this whole boat as his own personal, private stereo set. Well, one day he's got this piece of Pavarotti...

Seaman Jones: It was Paganini.

Watson: Whatever.

Seaman Jones: It was Paganini.

Watson: Look, this is my story, okay?

Seaman Jones: Then tell it right, COB. Pavarotti is a tenor, Paganini was a composer.

Watson: So anyway, he's got this music out in the water, and he's listening to it on his headsets, and he's just happy as a clam. And then all hell breaks loose. See, there's this whole slew of boats out in the water...

Seaman Jones: Including one WAY out at Pearl!

Watson: Including one way the hell out at Pearl. All of a sudden, they start hearing, Pavarotti...

Beaumont: Pavarotti!

Watson: Coming up their asses!

Watson: Y'know, I seen me a mermaid once. I even seen me a shark eat an octopus. But I ain't never seen no phantom Russian submarine.

Seaman Jones: COB, we don't have time for sea stories. I was just teaching Seaman Beaumont, here, the intracacies of modern sonar, now...

Watson: [chuckling] Yea, and I ain't Chief Of the Boat, I'm actually Sheena, queen of the jungle!

Watson: Holmes, let me ask you a question. I hope I'm not being presumptuous, but... there *have* been women in your life, haven't there?

Holmes: The answer is yes...

Watson: [Watson breathes a sigh of relief]

Holmes: ...You're being presumptuous. Good night.

[Holmes is about to inject cocaine]

Watson: Where's your self-control?

Holmes: Fair question.

Watson: Aren't you ashamed of yourself?

Holmes: Thoroughly. This will take care of it.

Watson: [the doorbell rings] Were you expecting someone?

Holmes: Not at this time of night.

Watson: Perhaps Mrs Hudson is entertaining.

Holmes: I've never found her so.

Holmes: Look at this: an urgent appeal to find some missing midgets.

Watson: Did you say "midgets"?

Holmes: Six of them, the Tumbling Piccolos, an acrobatic act of some circus.

Watson: [Reading the letter] Disappeared between London and Bristol. Well don't you find that intriguing?

Holmes: Extremely so. You see, they're not only midgets, but also anarchists.

Watson: Anarchists?

Holmes: By now, they have been smuggled to Vienna, dressed as little girls in organdy pinafores. They are to greet the czar of all the Russias when he arrives at the railway station. They will be carrying bouquets of flowers, and concealed in each bouquet will be a bomb with a lit fuse.

Watson: [Breathlessly] You really think so?

Holmes: Not at all. The circus owner offers me five pounds for my services. That's not even a pound a midget. So obviously, he's a stingy blighter and the little chaps simply ran off to join another circus.

Watson: [Crestfallen] It sounded so promising.

[about Madame Petrova]

Watson: They say twelve men have died for her.

Holmes: Really?

Watson: Six commited suicide, four were killed in duels and one fell out of the gallery of the Vienna Opera House.

Holmes: That's only eleven.

Watson: The man who fell from the gallery landed on top of another man in the orchestra.

Holmes: That makes an even dozen... in a messy sort of way.

Watson: You call yourself logical? You're the least logical man I know.

Holmes: Am I?

Watson: How can you say it's a figment of my imagination when for years you've been saying I have no imagination whatsoever?

Holmes: [Discussing Watson's portrayal of Holmes in 'Strand' Magazine] I don't dislike women, I merely distrust them. The twinkle in the eye and the arsenic in the soup...

Watson: You see it's touches like that which make you colourful.

Holmes: Lurid, more like!

Watson: Wouldn't it be ironic if Holmes' last case were a case of pneumonia?

Holmes: You've painted me as a hopeless dope addict just because I occasionally take a five-percent solution of cocaine.

Watson: A *seven-percent* solution...

Holmes: Five percent. Don't you think I'm aware you've been diluting it behind my back?

Watson: As a doctor, as well as your friend, I strongly disapprove of this insidious habit of yours.

Holmes: My dear friend, as well as my dear doctor, I only resort to narcotics when I'm suffering from acute boredom, when there are no interesting cases to engage my mind.

[Watson smiles and giggles as she hears to laughter from inside newly-married Victoria and Albert's room]

Baroness Lehzen: Have you woken Her Majesty?

Watson: No ma'am.

Baroness Lehzen: Don't you think you should?

Watson: No ma'am. Not this morning I don't.

Humphrey: So, just listen. Now, did I or did I not... do... vaginal... juices?

Pupils: Mmm. Mmm. Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

Humphrey: Name two ways of getting them flowing, Watson.

Watson: R - rubbing the clitoris, sir?

Humphrey: What's wrong with a kiss, boy? Hmm? Why not start her off with a nice kiss? You don't have to go leaping straight for the clitoris like a bull at a gate. Give her a kiss, boy.

Wymer: Suck the nipple, sir?

Humphrey: Good. Good. Well done, Wymer.

Pupil: Uh, stroking the thighs, sir.

Humphrey: Yes. Yes, I suppose so. Hmm?

Pupil: Oh, sir. Biting the neck.

Humphrey: Yes. Good. Nibbling the earlobe, uhh, kneading the buttocks, and so on and so forth. So, we have all these possibilities before we stampede towards the clitoris, Watson.

Watson: Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.

Holmes: It wasn't YOU he tried to kill!

Watson: Think man, think... Who was SUPPOSED to be in that room?

Holmes: That's right! You were!

Watson: Moriarty knows... I'm am the only match for his evil genius.

Holmes: You mean he's not trying to kill me?

Watson: Of course not. He knows you're an idiot.

Holmes: Oh, thank God.

Holmes: How can I be expected to maintain the character when you belittle me in front of those hooligans?

Watson: Character? Are we talking about the same man who once declared with total conviction that the late Colonel Howard had been bludgeoned to death with a blunt *excrement*?

Holmes: Is it my fault you have such poor handwriting?

Holmes: I'm reminded of the curious case of the Manchurian Mambo...

Watson: Holmes, could I have a word?

Holmes: Yes, what is it?

Watson: I believe that was the Manchurian Mamba.

Holmes: Mambo, mamba. What's the difference?

Watson: Well, very little, except that one is a deadly, poisonous snake, while the other is a rather festive Carribean dance.

Holmes: It was a night like any other, when suddenly a knock came at the door. I opened it, and there were these Manchurians, doing a rather festive Carribean dance...

Watson: I'll ask you once more: Are you coming with me?

Holmes: I would rather waltz naked through the fires of Hell.

[Holmes and Watson are walking through some woods. Holmes is looking up into the trees]

Holmes: What am I looking for?

Watson: Footprints.

Holmes: Ah.

[Holmes looks down]

Holmes: Have I found any yet?

Watson: Not yet.

Holmes: Well let me know when I do.

Holmes: Lovely story, Watson. But on page 2 you have me admitting a mistake.

Watson: A writer must write of which he knows...

Watson: Mandchurian mambo...

[slaps a bush]

Watson: Steady, Watson! Just get through it one more time! Then you're rid of that fellow... What a pleasant thought!

[breezes hearable]

Watson: I feel much better... quite euphoric!

Holmes: MORIARTY?

Watson: Oh, for God's sake...

Holmes: You didn't tell me that homicidal maniac was in on this!

Watson: That's because I knew you'd behave this way.

Holmes: Bravo! Another triumph for deductive reasoning!

Watson: Lord Mayor! Don't move until Holmes has searched the area for clues!

Holmes: My GOD I've trained you well, Watson!

Watson: Last night, Holmes realized how stupid he had been.

Holmes: Now, I didn't say stupid...

Watson: Yes, you did.

Inspector Lestrade: You're alive!

Watson: Astounding observation, Inspector. We must discuss it.

Local #1: A toast to the greatest detective in all the world.

Holmes: Thank you, gentlemen. I am touched.

Watson: I can vouch for that!

Watson: Holmes believes your father has been abducted.

Leslie: Abducted? By who?

Sherlock Holmes: Abductors

Watson: Have you got your revolver with you?

Holmes: Yeah, sure.

[fumbles around]

Holmes: Here it is.

Watson: Right, now I'm going to let you have some bullets for it. Try not to shoot yourself - at least, not until I give the signal.

Watson: Would you... Would you like to hear old uncle make a noise like a duck?

Commissioner of Scotland Yard: Before going further, Dr. Watson, I must inform you that this matter is not to be mentioned outside of this room.

Watson: [Indignantly] Of course not. Do I look like a man who'd gossip?

Holmes: Let's not go into that now, old fellow, shall we?

Watson: I say, Holmes?

Holmes: What?

Watson: It's morning.

Holmes: Allow me to congratulate you on a brilliant bit of deduction.

Watson: Humph, Irene Adler, what a striking looking woman from the brief glance I had of her. Seems only yesterday. What charm. Hmmmm. What poise. And what a mind! Sharp enough and brilliant enough to outwit the-the great Sherlock Holmes himself!

Holmes: I take it that the new issue of the Strand Magazine is out containing another of your slightly lurid tales.

Watson: It is indeed!

Holmes: And what do you call this one?

Watson: I call it "A Scandal in Bohemia." Not a bad title, huh?

Holmes: Hmm. If you must record my exploits, I do wish you would put less emphasis on the melodramatic and more on the intellectual issues involved.

Watson: More on the intel... what do you mean by that?

Holmes: Well I do hope you've given, um, *The* Woman a soul, she had one, you know.

Watson: By *The* Woman, I suppose you mean Irene Adler?

Holmes: Yes... I shall always remember her... as *The* Woman.

Holmes: [Holmes and Watson are in a pub to see Joe Cisto, a piano player. Holmes introduces Cisto to Watson] I want you to meet a friend of mine, Dr. Watson. Joe Cisto.

Joe Cisto: Oh, well, any friend of Mr. Holmes is a friend of mine.

Watson: How are you, Joe?

Joe Cisto: He did me a good turn once that I'll never forget.

Holmes: Yes, I cleared Joe of a most unpleasant charge.

Joe Cisto: Murder no less.

Watson: Oh, really?

Holmes: By proving to the satisfaction of the police that he was busy at the time blowing open someone's safe.

'Stinky' Emery: [remarking on one of his music boxes] Charming, isn't it?

Holmes: Quite!

Watson: [bored] They all sound to me like a lot of mice running about a tin roof.

Watson: [remarking on the stolen music box] But that box is only worth two pounds!

Holmes: It's worth a man's life, Watson!

Watson: Holmes! You all right?

Holmes: Perfectly, thank you, old fellow, but I think this gentleman on the floor requires some medical attention. We must see that he looks his best, you know, when he's hanged.

[last lines]

Inspector Hopkins: I still don't understand how you solved it, Mr. Holmes.

Holmes: It's entirely due to Doctor Watson. He gave me the clue when he mentioned Doctor Samuel Johnson.

Inspector Hopkins: Well, congratulations, Doctor.

Watson: Oh, thank you, Inspector. I don't think I could have done it entirely without Mr. Holmes' help, you know.

Watson: Arrows won't work against body armor and machine guns.

Jimmy - Silverfoot: All it takes is one good shot.

[as they start the championship game]