Inspector Morse

Morse: No, that's not 'Morse's Law'. 'Morse's Law' is there's always time for one more pint ... except there isn't.

Morse: Go home, Lewis. Kiss your children. See your wife

Morse: Beer is food

Morse: I stumble about. That's what I do. Sometimes I stumble in the right direction.

Morse: No, I don't join groups. I'm even thinking of leaving the choir.

Morse: Have you ever thought about the person who designed the sports skirt? Somebody sat down and drew a fantasy and made it compulsory uniform. I can never watch Wimbledon without thanking that man.

Morse: Toscanini? Arturo Toscanini? That's the WORST recording of 'The Magic Flute' there's ever been! I wouldn't even let it in the house!

Morse: No-one can imagine another's pain, Robbie

Morse: I've gone and arrested the WRONG man!

Morse: With a man like deVries, you have to look INSIDE the coffin!

Morse: We're being led up the garden path, Lewis. A very picturesque garden and a very pretty path

Hugo deVries: I like being dead. It takes the strain out of living.

Morse: You'd better start by rolling your trouser-leg up, Lewis. DCI Bottomley is a grand master, a grander master that I.

Morse: Watch the mouth: it gives away what the face is trying to hide.

Morse: Almost operatic. Greek Tragedy. You should try the Classice sometime, Lewis. Sex is never simple there: there's pleasure, then there's payment. Retribution.

Lewis: You go trampling about, don't you. You think you're so clever, but sometimes you're a bloody fool!

Lewis: (Noticing Inspector Hillian's drinking) The way he knocks it back, it's a wonder he lived to collect an OBE.

Lewis: Taxonomy? Sounds like stuffing. Stuffing umbrellas?

Morse: They don't spell Australian beer with four X's out of ignorance!

Morse: What's that..? Play that bit again, Lewis. That's the Hallelujah Chorus! ... conducted by Sir Adrian Boult!