Endeavour » Pilot » Quotes (Episode)

(Morse meets Max DeBryn, the pathologist, examining a body on a river bank)
DC Endeavour Morse: Morning.
Dr. Max DeBryn: Not for this poor sod. You are whom?
DC Endeavour Morse: Morse. Detective Constable. On attachment from Newtown. You're the, you're the pathologist, I presume.
Dr. Max DeBryn: (jovially) Better hope so, hadn't you. Otherwise I'm making one hell of a mess of your scene of crime. Max DeBryn.
(DeBryn offers his hand for Morse to shake it, then withdraws it as Morse hesitates because he sees the blood on DeBryn's glove)
DC Endeavour Morse: Is it a scene of crime? Initial reports suggested suicide.
Dr. Max DeBryn: Looks to be. Single entry wound on the right temple. Typical starburst gunpowder pattern on the skin surrounding the wound, together with contact scorching would suggest the weapon was discharged at point-blank range. As you can see.
(Morse looks away in disgust)
DC Endeavour Morse: I'll take your word for it.
Dr. Max DeBryn: Squeamish, are we? You won't make much of a detective if you're not prepared to look death in the eye.

(first lines)
BBC Announcer: Good morning, everyone. It's six o'clock on Sunday morning and the BBC Light Programme is beginning another day's broadcasting.

DC Endeavour Morse: Finished?
Dr. Max DeBryn: The hors d'oeuvres. Entrée this afternoon three o'clock sharp.
DC Endeavour Morse: You can give me your findings over the telephone, can't you?
Dr. Max DeBryn: You know, there's a word for people like you, Morse.
DC Endeavour Morse: Is there?
DC Endeavour Morse: Necrophobic.
DC Endeavour Morse: There's a word for people like you too, I imagine. Anglo-Saxon, though, rather than Greek.

(last lines)
DC Endeavour Morse: I was thinking I might pack it all in. Pick up my degree.
DI Fred Thursday: The world's long on academics, Morse, but woeful short of good detectives. Things as they are, I could use a permanent bagman. I mean... we did pretty well this time out. Give or take. I'd see you right, of course; make sure we get you through your sergeant's exam, eh? With the proper encouragement, who knows? What you got to ask is: where do you see yourself in twenty years?
(long pause as Morse looks in the rear-view mirror of Thursday's car. His reflection is replaced by an image of John Thaw as the older Inspector Morse)
DI Fred Thursday: Morse? Endeavour!

(Dorothea Frazil looks puzzled)
Dorothea Frazil: What did you say your name was?
DC Endeavour Morse: Morse. Why?
Dorothea Frazil: Have we met?
DC Endeavour Morse: I, I don't think so.
Dorothea Frazil: Another life, then.

(Thursday and Morse are questioning Richard Lovell, a government minister, about wild parties such as the one where they suspect Mary Tremlett met her death)
DI Fred Thursday: She'd be one of the young girls you'll have met at Teddy Samuels' parties. You attended one last Saturday at Wolvercote.
Richard Lovell: (laughing nervously) I don't think so. Sounds *most* unsavoury. Dear, dear.
DC Endeavour Morse: "Dear, dear"? A young girl's strangled and left naked in the woods, and all you can say is "dear, dear".
DI Fred Thursday: Morse. Do you deny you were there, Minister?
Richard Lovell: Naturally. And unless you have evidence to the contrary... I'm afraid this meeting is at an end.

DI Fred Thursday: There's no overtime.
DC Endeavour Morse: I realize that.
DI Fred Thursday: So what is it? Brown-nosing or sucker for punishment? There's no other kind of bloody fool still in the office at this time of night.
DC Endeavour Morse: Just us.