Silent white light filled the world. And the righteous and unrighteous alike were consumed in that holy fire.

Seven, Richie thought. That's the magic number. There has to be seven of us. That's the way it's supposed to be.

God and the afterlife and all that is certainly a subject that's interested me, and I think it interests me more the older that I get.

Few if any seemed to have grasped the Principle of Reality; new knowledge leads always to yet more awesome mysteries. Greater physiological knowledge of the brain makes the existence of the soul less possible yet more probable by the nature of the search.

If you were seeing a lot of horseshit, there had to be a pony in the vicinity.

Paul Edgecomb: What do you want me to do John? I'll do it. You want me to let you walk out of here and see how far you get? John Coffey: Now why would you want to do a foolish thing like that? Paul Edgecomb: When I die and I stand before God awaiting judgment and he asks me why I let one of HIS miracles die, what am I gonna say, that it was my job?

Get busy living, or get busy dying.