Rita Hayworth And Shawshank Redemption

I don’t get all those things gratis, and for some items the
price comes high. But I don’t do it just for the money; what good is money to
me? I’m never going to own a Cadillac car or fly off to Jamaica for two weeks in
2
February. I do it for the same reason that a good butcher will only sell you fresh
meat: I got a reputation and I want to keep it. The only two things I refuse to
handle are guns and heavy drugs. I won’t help anyone kill himself or anyone
else. I have enough killing on my mind to last me a lifetime.

If enough people want you to remember something, that can be a pretty powerful persuader."

I also hadn’t planned on getting caught, but caught I was. I got a season’s pass into this place. Maine has no death penalty, but the district attorney saw to it that I was tried for all three deaths and given three life sentences, to run one after the other. That fixed up any chance of parole I might have, for a long, long time. The judge called what I had done ‘a hideous, heinous crime’, and it was, but it is also in the past now. You can look it up in the yellowing files of the Castle Rock Call, where the big headlines announcing my conviction look sort of funny and antique next to the news of Hitler and Mussolini and FDR’s alphabet soup agencies.

Have I rehabilitated myself, you ask? I don’t know what that word means, at least as far as prisons and corrections go. I think it’s a politician’s word. It may have some other meaning, and it may be that I will have a chance to find out, but that is the future … something cons teach themselves not to think about. I was young, good-looking, and from the poor side of town. I knocked up a pretty, sulky, headstrong girl who lived in one of the fine old houses on Carbine Street. Her father was agreeable to the marriage if I would take a job in the optical company he owned and ‘work my way up’. I found out that what he really had in mind was keeping me in his house and under his thumb, like a disagreeable pet that has not

I put a large insurance policy on my wife, who was three years older th

He brought in five hundred dollars jammed up his back porch, but somehow that graymeat son of a bitch managed to bring in something else as well. A sense of his own worth, maybe, or a feeling that he would be the winner in the end … or maybe it was only a sense of freedom, even inside these goddamned grey walls. It was a kind of inner light he carried around with him. I only knew him to lose that light once, and that is also a part of this story

It lasted twenty minutes, that beer-break, and for those twenty minutes we felt like free men. We could have been drinking beer and tarring the roof of one of our own houses

‘I think a man feels more like a man when he’s working out of doors in the springtime if he can have a bottle of suds. That’s only my opinion. It would go down smooth, and I’m sure you’d have their gratitude.’

Suppose that, during their canvass for witnesses,’ Andy said one day in the exercise yard, ‘they stumble on this fellow who sold me the beer that night. By then three days have gone by. The facts of the case have been broadsided in all the papers. Maybe they ganged up on the guy, five or six cops, plus the dick from the attorney general’s office, plus the DA’s assistant. Memory is a pretty subjective thing, Red. They could have started out with “Isn’t it possible that he purchased four or five dishtowels?” and worked their way up from there. If enough people want you to remember something, that can be a pretty powerful persuader.’

The judge called what I had done ‘a hideous, heinous crime’

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