"I am still here. My purpose is still whole. I am untainted by their filth."
"Time is a luxury for those with clean hands, Sister," Silas replied, tossing his coat over the back of a rear pew. "I have spent the last seventy-two hours in the belly of the beast, and I assure you, it is not a punctual place." [S7E7] Untainted by Filth
Beatrice looked at the ledger in his hand, then at the fierce, unyielding light in his eyes. She set her broom aside and walked over to him, reaching out to gently touch the edge of his sleeve. "I am still here
He walked down the center aisle, his heavy boots clicking rhythmically. "The case is closed. I found the ledger. Every corrupt official, every blackguard who traded human lives for gold in the docks—their names are in here." "I have spent the last seventy-two hours in
Silas let out a dry, humorless laugh that echoed sharply in the quiet church. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook, its edges charred and stained. "The Bishop is a fool who thinks holiness is measured by the whiteness of his surplice. Real purity isn't the absence of dirt, Beatrice. It's the ability to walk through the deepest, darkest mire and come out the other side with your soul still intact."
The heavy oak doors of the sanctuary creaked open, admitting a slice of thin, gray morning light. Sister Beatrice paused her sweeping, the bristles of her broom frozen against the stone floor. She did not need to look up to know who had entered. The scent of ozone, rain, and expensive, unwashed linen always preceded him.
"At what cost, Silas?" Beatrice asked, her eyes tracing a fresh, angry red scar that ran along his jawline. "Look at you. You are bleeding, exhausted, and hunted. You live in the filth you fight."