He looked like he could have snapped the chains that held him as easily as you might snap the ribbons on a Christmas present, but when you looked in his face, you knew he wasn’t going to do anything like that.
Your name is John Coffey.
„Yes, sir, boss, like the drink only not spelled the same way.
I’m rightly tired of the pain I hear and feel, boss. I’m tired of bein on the road, lonely as a robin in the rain. Not never havin no buddy to go on with or tell me where we’s comin from or goin to or why. I’m tired of people bein ugly to each other. It feels like pieces of glass in my head. I’m tired of all the times I’ve wanted to help and couldn’t. I’m tired of bein in the dark. Mostly it’s the pain. There’s too much. If I could end it, I would. But I cain’t.
„He kill them with they love“, John said. „They love for each other. You see how it was?“ I nodded, incapable of speech.
He smiled. The tears were flowing again, but he smiled. „That’s how it is every day“, he said, „all over the world.“
Stephen King – The Green Mile