Photographer: I got your picture, man, I got your picture!
David Mills: Oh yeah? Detective Mills, M-I-L-L-S, fuck off!
David Mills: I don't think you're quitting because you believe these things you say. I don't. I think you want to believe them, because you're quitting. And you want me to agree with you, and you want me to say, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're right. It's all fucked up. It's a fucking mess. We should all go live in a fucking log cabin." But I won't. I won't say that. I don't agree with
you. I do not. I can't.
John Doe: [to Mills] Detective. Detective. DETECTIVE! You're looking for me.
David Mills: [Banging a book in frustration] Fuckin' Dante... poetry-writing faggot! Piece of shit, motherfucker!
[picks up the phone]
David Mills: Hello?
John Doe: I admire you. I don't know how you found me, but imagine my surprise. I respect you law enforcement agents more everyday.
David Mills: Well, I appreciate that... John. I tell you...
John Doe: No, no, you listen, all right? I'll be readjusting my
schedule in light of today's little... setback. I just had to call and express my admiration. Sorry I had to hurt... one of you, but I really didn't have a choice, did I?
David Mills: Hmm.
John Doe: You will accept my apology, won't you? I feel like saying more, but I don't want to ruin the surprise.
[hangs up]
David Mills: Has he tried to speak or communicate in any way?
Dr. Beardsley: Even if his brain were not mush, which it is, he chewed off his own tongue long ago.
William Somerset: Uh... Doc, is there absolutely no chance that he might survive?
Dr. Beardsley: Detective, he'd die of shock right now if you were
to shine a flashlight in his eyes. He's experienced about as much pain and suffering as anyone I've encountered, give or take... and he still has hell to look forward to. Good night.
William Somerset: Did the kid see it?
Detective Taylor: What?
William Somerset: The kid.
Detective Taylor: What the fuck sort of question is that? You know, we're all going to be really glad when we get rid of you, Somerset. It's always these questions with you. "Did the kid see it?" Who gives a fuck? He's
dead, his wife killed him. Anything else has nothing to do with us.