In 1966, Andy Dufresne escaped from Shawshank prison. All they found of him was a muddy set of prison clothes, a bar of soap, and an old rock hammer, damn near worn down to the nub. I remember thinking it would take a man six hundred years to tunnel through the wall with it. Old Andy did it in less than twenty.
Boy, you just never know just what your gonna get when you come to work everyday on the Green Mile.
Look Cap’n, look what he done to Blue. He’s dead, he’s dead. he run himself plum to death.
When he went away, the blues walked in and met me.
If he stays away, old rocking chair will get me.
Oh, men. I never yet met one of them that didn’t have the instincts of a heel. Sometimes I wish I could get along without them.
It’s a dangerous game, my dear. Falling in love with a phantom.
The Phaaaaantom of the Opera is here inside my mind.
All I wanted was to sing to God. He gave me that longing… and then made me mute. Why? Tell me that. If He didn’t want me to praise him with music, why implant the desire? Like a lust in my body! And then deny me the talent?
If I had a voice like Meena’s I’d be a superstar by now! Just singing, ooh, yeah, happy, ooh, yeah…
You think you can make me sing? Do you think you can - do you think George can make me sing? or Ida? You can get me there, sure, but can you make me sing? I sing for myself. I sing when I want to, whenever I want to, just for me. I sing for my own pleasure. Whenever I want - do you under stand that?
I sing the body electric,
I glory in the glow of rebirth,
Creating my own tomorrow,
When I shall embody the earth…
I think you might be a songwriter. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody. But I’m not very good at keeping secrets.
I got a couple of songs I wrote in the Air Force. You got anything against the Air Force?
General Ripper, Sir, as an officer in Her Majesty’s Air Force, it is my clear duty, under the present circumstances, to issue the recall code, upon my own authority, and bring back the Wing. If you’ll excuse me, sir.
Then… what’s the “old crate”?
You have a young navigator here! Well, I’ll tell you son… Due to a Cetcil wind, Dystor’s vectored us into a 360-tarson of slow air traffic. Now we’ll maintain this Borden hold until we get the Forta Magnus clearance from Melnics.
Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue.
Well, to begin with, nobody, and I mean nobody, can talk a junkie out of using. You can talk to 'em for years but sooner or later they’re gonna get ahold of something. Maybe it’s not dope. Maybe it’s booze, maybe it’s glue, maybe it’s gasoline. Maybe it’s a gunshot to the head. But something. Something to relieve the pressures of their everyday life, like having to tie their shoes.
“Well, Raymond? Aren’t you more comfortable in your favorite K-Mart clothes?”
“Tell him, Ray.”
“K-Mart sucks.”
Smell that, Ray? It’s the smell of success. We’re in LA now.