Inspector.calls Quotes

We don't live alone. We are members of one body. We are responsible for each other. And I tell you that the time will soon come when if men will not learn that lesson, then they will be taught it in fire and blood and anguish. Good night.

I don't play golf

The famous younger generation who know it all

We don’t live alone. We are members of one body. We are responsible for each other. And I tell you that the time will soon come when, if men will not learn that lesson, then they will be taught it in fire and blood and anguish.

Madness? Categories such as that do not exist – as far as I'm concerned, everything is healthy, except for fruit and vegetables. In art, too, madness comes in handy, in the art of the insane, and soon there will no doubt be artists who inflict wounds upon themselves, they will be the most modern of all modern artists. For example, you’re injured and you go for a walk along the street and display your injury to a police inspector, calling it a work of art, he does not understand this, and the gulf between him and the artist (who is at one and the same time his own work of art) becomes immeasurable, never to be crossed. Submission to something you didn't preach yourself is no good, I quote. Because Man must burst his ridiculous bonds, which consist of what is supposedly current reality with a prospect of a future reality of scarcely any greater value. Quote: Each and every full minute bears within it the negation of centuries of lame, broken history. End of quote.

Have the police come yet?” The inspector called down. “It’s Inspector

If men will not learn that lesson, then they will be taught it in fire and blood and anguish.

But after all it's better to ask for the earth than to take it.

This is J. B. Priestley's 1945 play An Inspector Calls, and the message it contains - that we do not live alone, that we live in a society where we bear a collective responsibility towards each other - is one of the most important literary calls to activism that teenagers will encounter.

It's still the same rotten story whether it's been told to a police inspector or to somebody else." -Eric Birling

Puffed pastry. That's what the newspaper reporters called it. Department of Transportation inspectors called it disintegration. Deterioration; the over-saturation of iron bridgework by water and air that caused it to puff up and crust over like cheese over a steaming crock of French onion soup. If you touched it, it would flake away like a bad case of psoriasis.