I'm tired, boss. Tired of being on the road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. I'm tired of never having me a buddy to be with... to tell me where we's going to, coming from, or why. Mostly, I'm tired of people being ugly to each other. I'm tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world... every day. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass in my head...all the time.
— Your name is John Coffey?
— Yes, sir, boss. Like the drink, only not spelt the same.
I guess sometimes the past just catches up with you... whether you want it to or not.
— They's lots of folks here that hate me. Lots! I can feel it. It's like bees stinging me.
— Well, feel how we feel, then. We don't hate you. Can you feel that?
Honey... if you don't tell me what's on your mind... I'm afraid I'll have to smother you with a pillow.
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