Ray Nadeem (to other FBI agents): You're right. Wilson Fisk is a piece of sh*t. After every time I'm in the room with the guy, I want a shower. But let's talk about the Albanians for a minute, what they have done. Four dead NYPD officers, 12 more riding desks with disabilities. One hundred and seven civilian murders. And even after five task forces over seven years, to the tune of $11 million, we got zero. Those are some sh*tty numbers. But here's another one. With Fisk's intel, we beheaded the Albanian syndicate in one day. One single day. No loss of life, no injuries, no mayhem. I mean, look at the take. We got their documents and data, and we're gonna get their money. Best of all, we bagged corrupt officials whose protection they were selling. A lot of cases they've been interfering with may finally get somewhere. Look, none of us like it. It makes me want to throw up to admit it. But New York is safer tonight because of Wilson Fisk.
(Flashback to young Matt...)
Father Lantom: How many fights have you been in this week?
Matt Murdock: How many guys complained?
Father Lantom: None. 'Cause no one wants to admit they got their butt kicked by a blind kid.
Matt Murdock: So you can't prove that I did anything.
Father Lantom: I don't want to, and I don't need to. It's not about proving anything, Matthew. Argumentation is a skill. Being argumentative is a sign.
Matt Murdock: A sign like a prophecy?
Father Lantom: A sign like you're angry, Matthew. That's a perfectly understandable reaction to your situation. But it's not sustainable.
Matt Murdock: Or maybe it's a sign that Sister Dora should stick to teaching math.
Father Lantom: You're good... at arguing and deflecting and denying you're angry to other people. But you're gonna have to deal with your anger, Matthew. Find a way to... harness it. Or it will destroy you.
Matt Murdock: The Book of Job. The story of God's perfect servant, Job. He prayed every day at dawn, with his knees on the ground, his face in the dirt. Slaughtered ten goats, one for each of his children, and burned them at the altar in God's honor. Of all of God's soldiers, Job, he was the most loyal.
Sister Maggie: I know the story, Matthew.
Matt Murdock: Oh. Then you know what happens next. God murdered all ten of his children in cold blood. Scorched every inch of Job's land. Lashed at his body till his skin was covered in bloody welts. God rained sh*t and misery on the life of his most perfect servant. And still... Job would not curse him. You know what I realized? Job was a pu**y. You see, that was me, Sister. I suffered willingly. I gave my, uh... sweat and blood and skin without complaint. Because I too believed I was God's soldier. Well, not anymore. I am what I do in the dark now. I bleed only for myself.
Sister Maggie: Angry, sarcastic... and stubborn. Maybe you don't have any friends.
Matt Murdock: Someone once told me that warriors were meant to be alone. That caring for people would make me weak.
Sister Maggie: Sounds like he needed to get laid.
Matt Murdock: Ha! That actually explains a lot. I mean, he was right, of course. I let people in, I pay the price. I won't make that mistake again.
Foggy Nelson: Matt's dead. That's the first time I've said that out loud. I don't want to accept it, either. Especially since I'm the one who... you know... brought him the Devil suit.
Karen Page: No. Hey, don't... do that to yourself. You know that was his choice. He'd have gotten to that suit whether you brought it to him or not.
Foggy Nelson: I know. But it doesn't stop me from wishing I'd brought him some sweatpants instead.
Sister Maggie: The things I've heard you can do... You are blind, right? You weren't just faking it the whole time?
Matt Murdock: Congratulations. You finally caught me.
Sister Maggie: It's not a fair question?
Matt Murdock: Yeah, the accident blinded me. It just also, uh, sharpened my other senses...
Sister Maggie: I guess I shouldn't be surprised by any of this. You were always pissed off. Of course, back then, you were just a boy who lost his eyesight. And now, you're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.
Matt Murdock: You've heard of me.
Sister Maggie: I live in an orphanage, not under a rock. I just never imagined it'd be one of ours running around in that Halloween costume.
Foggy Nelson (about Matt): On the plus side, he gets to touch a lot of pretty girls... on their faces. Um, that's, you know, how he tells what people look like. Or at least that's what he tells the ladies. Although, he always seems to know which ones are hot before he puts his grubby little mitts on them. It's a real gift. He's like a sexual Rain Man.
Wilson Fisk: I've done things that I'm not proud of, Vanessa. I've hurt people... and I'm going to hurt more. It's impossible to avoid for what I'm trying to do. But I take no pleasure in it... in cruelty. But this city isn't a caterpillar. It doesn't spin a cocoon and wake up a butterfly. A city... crumbles and fades. It needs to die before it can be reborn.