- Are you okay?　- What? Am I? No. No. I'm not okay. I'm never gonna be okay. And we'll just have to accept that. It is what it is. And what it is, is... sh*t (John, do better.) You didn't kill Mary. Mary died saving your life. It's her choice. No one made her do it. No one could ever make her do anything. But the point is, you did not kill her.
- In saving my life, she conferred a value on it. It is a currency I do not know how to spend.　-It is what it is.　- (That noise. That's a text alert noise.) What was that?　-What was that? (That's the text alert of Irene Adler. She's the scary mad one, right?)　- That noise?
- What noise?(But she's dead. Oh, I bet she isn't dead. I bet he saved her. Oh, my God. Oh, the posh boy loves the dominatrix. He's never knowingly under-cliched, is he?)
- You and the woman. Do you go to a discreet Harvester sometimes? Is there nights of passion in High Wycombe?　- Oh for God's sake. I don't text her back.
- Why not? You bloody moron. She's out there. She likes you and she's alive. And do you have the first idea how lucky you are? Yes, she's a lunatic. She's a criminal. She's insanely dangerous. Trust you to fall for a sociopath. (Oh, married an assassin.) But she's, you know... 　- What?　- Just text her back.　- Why?
- Because High Wycombe is better than you are currently equipped to understand....　- As I think I have explained to you many times before, romantic entanglement, while fulfilling for other people, 　- ...will complete you as a human being.　- That doesn't even mean anything.　- Just text her. Phone her. Do something whilst there's a chance because that chance doesn't last forever. Trust me, Sherlock. It's gone before you know it. Before you know it.

"My little master, who will find me." ''I that am lost, oh who will find me.''
''Deep down below the old beech tree. Help succour me now, the east wind blow.''
''Sixteen by six, brother under we go.''

I am lost. Help me brother. Save my life. Before my doom.
I am lost. Without your love. Save my soul. Seek my room.
- I'm here.　-You're playing with me. We're playing the game.
- The game, yes. I get it now. The song was never a set of directions.
- I'm in the plane, I'm going to crash. And you're going to save me.
Look how brilliant you are, your mind has created the perfect metaphor. You're high above us, all alone in the sky, and you understand everything except how to land. Now, I'm just an idiot, but I'm on the ground. I can bring you home.
- No, no, no. It's too late now...　- No, it's not, it's not too late.
- Every time I close my eyes, I'm on the plane. I'm lost, lost in the sky and no one can hear me.
- Open your eyes. I'm here. You're not lost any more. Now, you, you just, you just went the wrong way last time, that's all. This time get it right.