Martha, I am not a fan of yours and I think that your views on sexual assault are reprehensible, but you are a survivor and I really want to help you get justice.
CCobb
Always effective. The inspirational mission statement.
Then how about you drop the armor? How about you start talking to me like a human being, not a media personality? Can we do that? Can we... can we just talk? Please?
In my younger and more vulnerable years, when I was knee-deep in my very first trial, opposing counsel unwittingly sabotaged his own case by including an inculpatory document in with his discovery request. I didn't know what to do. So I did what any young ADA did when he was utterly lost. I went to Mr. Stone's cubicle, where he was writing a closing. Ben listened patiently. "I can either ignore the document," I said, "or..." And he cut me off before I could finish the sentence. "A man shouldn't do what he can," he said. "He should do what he must, without regard for consequence or repercussion. That's what makes us moral," Ben added. "And God help us if we lose that." So, like that, the world is a sadder place. The noblest of hearts has cracked. Goodbye, Ben Stone. And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
Did you know he had everyone over to his house the first time you pitched? I thought his heart stopped when that bastard ruined your no-hitter. I think he secretly became a Cubs fan.
The world was an old movie. It was all black and white. And it was high noon. I was Gary Cooper. I was absolutely sure, absolutely, who were the good guys, who were the bad guys. And then you, you started to weasel your way into my world, and the black and white became different shades of gray. Don't. Don't say it. Before I knew it, there were blues and greens and yellows and reds. I'm you now, Liv. You opened my heart. And I thank you for it.
Look, what you do working full-time as a lieutenant and being a single mother that must take more energy than I can imagine. And you... what I mean is, you make it look effortless.
Welcome to Sex Crimes. Look, Stone, there are no perfect witnesses. They leave out part of the story. They can't remember. They feel guilty, change their minds. They blame themselves. They think it's their fault, but that's why we're here. To fight for them. And the less perfect they are, the harder we fight. Look, nobody asks a robbery or a homicide victim if she wanted it. Nobody says, Hey, why was she walking down the dark alley? Why was she wearing the dark skirt? Nobody implies that the crime was somehow her fault.
You have the victim's word. We go to trial so the victim, the survivor can look her rapist in the eye and tell the world, her truth. We go to trial so she can be heard. The truth, that's what heals. If you're going to trial because because you want to win, you're in the wrong place.
No. No, of course not. Hey. The first time I met you, you were three months old, and, uh you wouldn't smile for me, no no matter what I did. You just stared at me. You're very serious, but you were so cute that I started smiling. And then all of a sudden, like like somebody flipped a light switch. Your face lit up and and you smiled at me. That was all you needed. You just wanted me to be happy. You've always been like that, Mia, and I promise you, I'm not gonna let anything bad happen.
Me and Stevie Harris used to steal our dads' .22s and go shoot cans off a stump, and one day, I dared him to go down to the stump and just hold the can an arm's length out. Dead-eye Amanda shoots a bullet hole right through the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
When I first came to New York, I spent all my time at the hospital with my father. And every afternoon, I'd go down to the cafeteria, grab a cup of coffee. My father died while I was asking one of the servers down there for some half-and-half.
