Life & Wisdom Quote by Arthur Conan Doyle

Doyle’s line is a manifesto disguised as a mild preference, and it works because it flatters both logic and obsession at once. Calling it an “axiom” borrows the authority of mathematics: not a hunch, not a vibe, but a foundational truth. Then he yanks the reader into a paradox that feels like a detective trick in miniature: “little things” are “infinitely” important. The exaggeration is deliberate. It’s the same rhetorical snap you see in Sherlock Holmes, where a scuffed boot or a smear of ash becomes the lever that moves the whole world.

The intent is practical: train attention. Doyle is selling a method of looking that turns everyday noise into signal. The subtext is more competitive: most people are lazy observers, content with big narratives and blunt causes; the truly sharp mind wins by noticing what others dismiss. There’s also a moral edge. In a culture increasingly addicted to spectacle and status (late-Victorian Britain’s empire, industry, and class choreography), Doyle elevates the overlooked detail as a quiet rebuke to grandstanding. It’s anti-heroic and anti-posture.

Context matters: Doyle was writing at the height of positivism, when science promised to make the world legible. Holmes is that promise in human form. But the quote also betrays anxiety about modern life’s clutter. If the little things are “infinitely” important, then nothing can be safely ignored. The method that empowers you also enslaves you to vigilance. That’s the dark joke under the elegance: mastery begins with attention, and attention has a cost.