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 Post subject: Memorable Dialogue
PostPosted: Sun Jun 29, 2008 10:06 pm 
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Joined: Wed Sep 16, 1998 6:01 am
Posts: 5999
Location: Mount Dora, Florida
I know there are some very famous lines, uttered by very famous people. . . but have you heard or read something recently - in a book or magazine where you never expected to find a memorable line worth remembering?

I was given a mystery novel by James Lee Burke by a friend who said "you will love the way he writes". Well my friend was right. "Sunset Limited" was a great book, so I purchased one of his earlier books. . . just to find out if he always wrote with so much heart and soul!

He does!

I had to put the book down when I read this. . .
Quote:
Even with makeup, her face looked stark, as shiny as ceramic, in the lacy veil of sunlight through the cypress trees. She turned and walked back up the dock, her pink underwear winking through a small thread-worn hole in the rump of her jeans.


Van will love this book! :)[/quote]

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"Do or do not. there is no try!"


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PostPosted: Sun Jun 29, 2008 10:20 pm 
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Location: Mount Dora, Florida
Quote:
Most people in prison deserve to be there. Old-time recidivists who are down on a bad beef will usually admit they're guilty of other crimes, perhaps much worse ones than the crimes they're down for.

They're exceptions, but not many. So their burden is of their own creation. But it is never an easy one, no matter how modern the facility or how vituperative the rhetoric about country club jails.

You're a nineteen-year old fish, uneducated, frightened, with an IQ of around 100. At the reception center you rebuff a trusty wolf who works in records and wants to introduce you to jailhouse romance, so the trusty makes sure you go up the road with a bad jacket (the word is out, you snitched off a solid con and caused him to lose his goodtime).

You just hit main pop and you're already jammed up, worried about the shank in the chow line, the Molotov cocktail shattered inside your cell, the whispered threat in the soybean field about the experience awaiting you in the shower that night.

So you make a conscious choice to survive and find a benefactor, "an old man," and become a full-time punk, one step above the yard bitches. You mule blues, prune-o, and Afghan skunk for the big stripes; inside a metal tool shed that aches with heat, you participate in the savaging of another ifsh, who for just a moment reminds you of someone you used to know.

Then a day comes when you think you can get free. You're mainline now, two years down with a jacket full of goodtime. You hear morning birdsong that you didn't notice before; you allow your mind to linger on the outside, the face of a girl in a small town, a job in a piney woods timber mill that smells of rosin and hot oil on a ripsaw, an ordinary day not governed by fear.

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GEM
"Do or do not. there is no try!"


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