I do not aim with my hand; he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I aim with my eye. I do not shoot with my hand; he who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I shoot with my mind. I do not kill with my gun; he who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father. I kill with my heart.

All I ask is that you do as well as you can, and remember that, while to write adverbs is human, to write he said or she said is divine.

We each owe a death, there are no exceptions, I know that, but sometimes, oh God, the Green Mile is so long.

There were people who lied for gain, people who lied from pain, people who lied simply because the concept of telling the truth was utterly alien to them . . . and then there were people who lied because they were waiting for it to be time to tell the truth.

The redness was going out of the light now, the remains of the day were a fading pink, the color of wild roses.

When I was a kid I believed everything I was told, everything I read, and every dispatch sent out by my own overheated imagination. This made for more than a few sleepless nights, but it also filled the world I lived in with colors and textures I would not have traded for a lifetime of restful nights.

Did it [cocaine] for about eight years. Not a terribly long time to be an addict I guess, but it is longer than World War II.