[after being caught suborning perjury] Thirty years I've been at this. Thirty years trying to knock six months to a year off the sentence of some piece of dirt who, when all is said and done, is gonna rot in Hell anyway. That's some way to measure your life, isn't it? Counting the time that murderers aren't in prison. I have measured out my life in coffee spoons. Couple bucks here and there. A week in Miami Beach twice a year. What about you, Jack? Who are you?
I do what my job requires.
That's not enough for me. For once in my sorry life, I dared to eat the peach.





