It always bothers me when I hear someone say that Conan Doyle hated Holmes. That he had a complicated relationship with his most famous creation is undeniable, but at the most I think you could call it a passionate love-hate affair. You certainly couldn't induce me to spend thirty-odd years writing stories about a character I loathed, no matter how good the money was!
So. Because that bothers me, and because I like to imagine Conan Doyle's reaction if he could see just how lasting and beloved Holmes has turned out to be, but mostly just because I think this is lovely:
"One likes to think that there is some fantastic limbo for the children of imagination, some strange, impossible place where the beaux of Fielding may still make love to the belles of Richardson, where Scott's heroes still may strut, Dickens' s delightful Cockneys still raise a laugh, and Thackeray's worldlings continue to carry on their reprehensible careers. Perhaps in some humble corner of such Valhalla, Sherlock and his Watson may for a time find a place, while some more astute sleuth with some even less astute comrade may fill the stage which they have vacated."
--Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, in his preface to The Case Book of Sherlock Holmes