"I'm tired, boss. Tired of bein' on the road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. Tired of not ever having me a buddy to be with, or tell me where we's coming from or going to, 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 everyday. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass in my head all the time."
John Coffey: "I'm smellin' me some cornbread."
Paul Edgecomb: "It's from my mises. She wanted to thank you."
John Coffey: "Thank me for what?"
Paul Edgecomb: "Well, you know... for a helping me."
John Coffey: "Helping you with what?"
Paul Edgecomb: "You know."
John Coffey: "Ohh. Was your misses pleased?"
Paul Edgecomb: "Several times."
John Coffey: "You know, I fell asleep this afternoon and had me a dream. I dreamed about Del's mouse."
Paul Edgecomb: "Did you, John?"
John Coffey: "I dreamed he got down to that place Boss Howell talked about, that Mouseville place. I dreamed there was kids, and how they laughed at his tricks! My! I dreamed those two little blonde-headed girls were there. They 'us laughing, too. I put my arms around 'em and sat 'em on my knees, and there 'us no blood comin' outta their hair and they 'us fine. We all watch Mr. Jingles roll that spool, and how we did laugh. Fit to bust, we was."
Paul Edgecomb: "Men under strain can snap; hurt themselves, hurt others. That's why our job is talking, not yelling. You'll do better to think of this place like an intensive care ward in a hospital."
Percy Wetmore: "I think of it as a bucket of piss to drown rats in! That's all! Anybody doesn't like it can kiss my ass!"
"We'll be doing this for real tomorrow night and I don't want nobody to remember some stupid joke like that and get it going again. You ever try to not to laugh in church when something funny gets stuck in your head? Same goddamn thing."
John Coffey: "Poor old Del."
Paul Edgecomb: "Yeah. Poor old Del. John, you okay...?"
John Coffey: "I could feel it from here."
Paul Edgecomb: "What do you mean? You could hear it. Is that what you mean? You could hear it."
John Coffey: "He out of it now, though. He the lucky one. No matter how it happened, Del the lucky one."
Paul Edgecomb: "Where's Mr. Jingles?"
John Coffey: "He run away under that door. Don't think he'll be back. He felt it too, through me. Didn't mean to hurt him none. All that hurt just spill out. Awful tired now, boss. Dog-tired."
Paul Edgecomb: "Me too, John. Me too."
Arlen Bitterbuck: "Do you believe that if a man repents enough for what he done wrong, than he'll get to go back to the time that was happiest for him and live there forever? Could that be what heaven's like?"
Paul Edgecomb: "I just about believe that very thing."
Arlen Bitterbuck: "I had a young wife when I was eighteen. We spent the summer in the mountains, made love every night. After we would talk sometimes till the sun came up, and she'd lay there, bare breasted in the fire light... that was my best time."
"They usually call death row the Last Mile, but we called ours the Green Mile, because the floor was the color of faded limes. We had the electric chair then. Old Sparky, we called it. I've lived a lot of years, Ellie, but 1935 takes the prize. That was the year I had the worst urinary infection of my life. That was also the year of John Coffey and the two dead girls."
Paul Edgecomb: "What do you want me to do John? You want me to let you run out of here, see how far you can get?"
John Coffey: "Why would you do such a foolish thing?"
Paul Edgecomb: "On the day of my judgment, when I stand before God, and He asks me why did I kill one of his true miracles, what am I gonna say? That it was my job? My job?"