I loved the work. I missed it for years after I was arrested. I couldn't drive past 100 Centre New York City Criminal Court, that whole area, without crying, seeing people going to court and knowing I couldn't do that anymore. I still do miss it. I don't think I could ever go back. Maybe I could consider second-seating my son or someone else whose work I respect. But I could not take on any responsibility. I'm out of step; I haven't kept up.

You're working not for the corporate interest, not for the government interest, not for your own self-interest. You have a higher calling.

If you make a mistake as a prosecutor, your mistakes go home, whereas if you make a mistake defending, they go to jail.

I didn't know Harlem existed. I didn't know there was such a place, because I grew up in white Queens, where five miles is 100 miles. So I went to the school and, being a smart cookie - as they called us in those days - I had a million questions. How did this place exist? How come I didn't know about it? Why are people living like this? Do they want to live like this?

Your goal is to make a better world through the work you do. It's not always possible, and you have to earn a living.

There are lawyers who believe in client-centered representation and who are dedicated on the same level I feel I was dedicated.

I couldn't add my talent, which is prodigious, to a defense of someone even accused of hurting a child.