Doe: Nothing wrong with a man taking pleasure in his work. I won't deny my own desire to see each sin turned against the sinner. Mills: Wait, I thought all you did was murder innocent people... Doe: [outraged] Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny? [his voice rising in anger] An obese man, a disgusting man who could barely stand up, a man who if you saw him on the street, you'd point him out to your friends so that they could join you in mocking him, a man, who if you saw him while you were eating, you wouldn't be able to finish your meal. After him, I picked the lawyer, and I know you both must have been secretly thanking me for that one. This is a man who dedicated his life to making money by lying with every breath that he could muster to keeping murderers and rapists on the streets! Mills: Murderers? Doe: A woman … Mills: Murderers, John, like yourself? Doe: A woman, so ugly on the inside she couldn't bear to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A drug dealer, a drug-dealing pederast, actually! And let's not forget the disease-spreading whore! Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. But that's the point: we see a deadly sin on every street corner, in every home, and we tolerate it. We tolerate it because it's common, it's trivial. We tolerate it morning, noon, and night. Well, not anymore. I'm setting the example. What I've done is going to be puzzled over and studied and followed … forever. Mills: Uh... yeah. [to Somerset] Delusions of grandeur. John Doe: You should be thanking me. Mills: Why is that, John? Doe: Because you're going to be remembered after this. Realize, detective, the only reason that I'm here right now is that I wanted to be. Mills: No. No, we would have got you eventually. Doe: Oh, really? So, what were you doing? Biding your time? Toying with me? Allowing five "innocent" people to die until you felt like springing your trap? Tell me, what was the indisputable evidence you were going to use on me right before I walked up to you and put my hands in the air?! Mills: John. Calm down. I seem to remember us knocking on your door. Doe: Oh, that's right. And I seem to remember breaking your face. [leans forward] You're only alive because I didn't kill you. Mills: Okay, sit back. Doe: I spared you. Mills: Sit back! Doe: Remember that, detective, every time you look in the mirror at that face of yours for the rest of your life, or should I say, for the rest of what life I've allowed you to have. Mills: Sit back! Sit back, you fucking freak! Shut your fucking mouth! You're no messiah. You're a movie of the week. You're a fucking T-shirt, at best. John Doe: Don't ask me to pity those people. I don't mourn them any more than I do the thousands that died at Sodom and Gomorrah. Somerset: Is that to say, John, that what you were doing was God's good work? Doe: The Lord works in mysterious ways.

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