Werle: Some people in this world only need to get a couple of slugs in them and they go plunging right down to the depths, and they never come up again.
Gina: Is Gregers still as awful as ever.
Hjalmar: She’s the only one, yes. She’s our greatest joy in life, and … she’s also our deepest sorrow, Gregers.
Ekdal: Felling, eh? …….. That’s a dangerous business, that. That brings trouble. The forests avenge themselves.
Ekdal: She did that. Always do that, wild ducks do. Go plunging right to the bottom … as deep as they can get, my dear sir … hold on with their beaks to the weeds and stuff … all other mess you find down there. Then they never come up again.
Gregers: So time stands still in there … besides the wild duck.
Hedvig: But she’s completely cut off from her friends. And then everything about the wild duck is so mysterious. Nobody really knows her; and nobody knows where she’s from either.
Hjalmar: Good Lord, you mustn’t ask me about details like dates. An invention is something you can never be completely master of. It’s largely a matter of inspiration ... of intuition … and it’s pretty nearly impossible to predict when that will come.
Relling: Personality? Him! If he ever showed any signs of anything as abnormal as a personality, it was all thoroughly cleared out of him, root and branch, when he was still a lad – that I can assure you.
Relling: I’m afraid not; I don’t give secret like that away to quacks. … But it’s a tried and tested method; I have used it on Molvik as well. I have made him a ‘demonic’. That’s the particular cure I had to apply to him.
Relling: While I remember, Mr. Werle junior – don’t use this fancy word ‘ideals’; we’ve got a plain word that’s good enough: ‘lies’.
Gregers: Dr. Relling, I shall not rest until I have rescued Hjalmar Ekdal from your clutches!
Relling: So much the worse for him. Take the life-lie away from the average man and straight away you take away his happiness.
Gregers: Ah, if only you’d had your eyes opened to what really makes life worth while! If you had the genuine, joyous, courageous spirit of self-sacrifice, then you would see how quickly he would come back to you. But I still have faith in you, Hedvig.
Gregers: If you are right and I am wrong, life will no longer be worth living.
Gregers: Hedvig has not died in vain. Didn’t you see how grief brought out what was noblest in him?
Relling: Oh, life wouldn’t be too bad if only these blessed people who come canvassing their ideals round everybody’s door would leave us poor souls in peace.
I ofen looked up at the sky an' assed meself the question - what is the moon, what is the stars?
Th' whole worl's in a terrible state o' chassis.
Never tired o’ lookin’ for a rest.
it's nearly time we had a little less respect for the dead, an' a little more regard for the living.
Isn't all religions curious?-if they weren't you wouldn't get anyone to believe in them.
It’ll have what’s far better- it’ll have two mothers.
It doesn't matter what you say, ma - a principle's a principle.
She is a well-made and good-looking girl of twenty-two. (Mary)
She is forty-five years of age, and twenty years ago she must have been a pretty woman. (Juno)
… seven wounds he head – one entherin’ the neck, with an exit wound beneath the left shoulder-blade; another in the left breast penethratin’ the heart, an’…
Wan victim wasn’t enough. When the employers sacrifice wan victim, the Trades Unions go wan betther be sacrficin’ a hundred.
A principle’s a principle.
… he is a thin delicate fellow … He has evidently gone through a rough time. His face is pale and drawn; … fear in his eyes. (Johnny)
He is a man of about sixty; stout, grey-haired and stocky. His neck is short, and his head looks like a stone ball … upper part of his body slightly thrown back, … His walk is a slow consequential strut … he wears a faded seaman’s cap with a glazed peak.
… his eyes have a cunning twinkle; … he has a habit of constantly shrugging his shoulders.
… when the cat’s away, the mice can play!
I’ve a little spirit left in me still!
One that says all is God an’ no man; an’ th’ other that says all is man an’ no God!
Have none of yous any respect for the Irish people’s National regard for the dead?
Ah, him that goes a borrownin’ goes a sorrowin’!
I’ll put some o’ the gorgeous feathers out o’ your tail!
– your humanity is just as narrow as th’ humanity o’ th’ others.
Sacred Heart o’ Jesus, have mercy on me!
Ah, what can God do agen th’ stupidity o’ men!
It’ll have what’s far betther – it’ll have two mothers.
What was th’ pain I suffered, Johnny, bringin’ you into th’ world to carry you to yours cradle to th’ pains I’ll suffer carryin’ you out o’ th’ world to bring you to your grave!
