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John Grisham

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“There was the slightest hint of a tiny grin at the corners of her mouth, but only for a second. "I just can't believe this," she said, her eyes drifting away. "He's such a good boy." Maybe. Louie had flirted around the edges of the drug scene throughout high school. There were plenty of red flags but his parents had always chosen to ignore them. At every sign of trouble, they had rushed in to defend him and believe his lies. They had enabled Louie, and now the bill was due.”

“A sharp bolt of hunger hit Luther hard. His knees almost buckled, his poker face almost grimaced. For two weeks now his sense of smell had been much keener, no doubt a side effect of a strict diet. Maybe he got a whiff of Mabel's finest, he wasn't sure, but a craving came over him. Suddenly, he had to have something to eat. Suddenly, he wanted to snatch the bag from Kendall, rip open a package, and start gnawing on a fruitcake.”

“Throughout the exchange Rackley glared at Mark with a ong, confident look, as if to say, "I have billions and you don't. I'm superior in all respects so accept it." One benefit of practicing street law without a license was that * had chipped away all traces of reticence. As Mark and Todd had beazenly gone about their business in the D.C. courts, they had grown accustomed to pretending to be people they were not. If they could stand before judges and use fake names and assume the roles of lawyers, they could certainly sit across from Hinds Rackley and act like journalists.”

“I can’t believe you would represent a killer like that Jake. I thought you were one of us. xxx ‘Gotta have a lawyer, Helen. You can’t put the boy in the gas chamber if he doesn’t have a lawyer. Surely, you understand.’ xxx ‘...I can’t imagine doing that for a living, representing killers and child rapists and such.’ ‘How often do you read the Constitution?’ ‘...the Constitution, as interpreted by the Supreme Court, says that a person accused of a serious crime must have a lawyer. And that’s the law of the land.”

“As a society, we adhere to the belief in a fair trial for a person accused of a serious crime, but some of us struggle when it comes to the business of providing a competent lawyer to guarantee said fair trial. Lawyers like me live with the question “But how do you represent such scum?” I offer a quick “Someone has to” as I walk away. Do we really want fair trials? No, we do not. We want justice, and quickly. And justice is whatever we deem it to be on a case-by-case basis. It’s just as well that we don’t believe in fair trials because we damned sure don’t have them. The presumption of innocence is now the presumption of guilt. The burden of proof is a travesty because the proof is often lies. Guilt beyond a reasonable doubt means if he probably did it, then let’s get him off the streets.”

“Since most law-abiding citizens had no contact with the parole system, it was not a priority with the state legislatures. And since most of the state's prisoners were either poor or black, and unable to use the system to their advantage, it was easy to hit them with harsh sentences and keep them locked up. But for an inmate with a few connections and some cash, the parole system was a marvelous labyrinth of contradictory laws that allowed the Parole Board to pass out favors.”

“After eight days in the sun of the Virgin Islands her skin was brown enough and her hair was returning to its natural colour. She walked miles up and down the beaches and ate nothing except fish and fruit. She slept a lot the first few days. She looked at her wrist and then remembered that her watch was in a bag somewhere. She didn't need it here. She woke with the sun and went to bed after dark. But now she was waiting, so she had looked at her wrist. It was almost dark when the taxi stopped at the end of the small road. He got out, paid the driver and looked at the lights as the car disappeared back up the road. He had one bag. He could see a light from the house between the trees at the edge of the beach, and he walked towards it. He didn't know what to expect. He knew how he felt about her, but did she feel the same? She was waiting at the back of the house, looking out to sea, with a drink in her hand. She smiled at him, put down her drink and let him come to her. They kissed for a long minute. 'You're late,' she said.”

“Mr. Buckley, let me explain it this way. And I'll do so very carefully and slowly so that even you will understand it. If I was the sheriff, I would not have arrested him. If I was on the grand jury, I would not have indicted him. If I was the judge, I would not try him. If I was the D.A., I would not prosecute him. If I was on the trial jury, I would vote to give him a key to the city, a plaque to hang on his wall, and I would send him home to his family. And, Mr. Buckley, if my daughter is ever raped, I hope I have the guts to do what he did.”

“Như được hẹn trước, âm nhạc chợt dừng lại, những người đi dạo trên bãi biển chợt đóng băng và ngước nhìn, tiếng ồn tại Rumheads chợt lắng đọng khi mọi cặp mắt xoay chuyển để chiêm ngưỡng cảnh mặt trời đang tiếp nước. Những đám mây xám trắng rơi rớt của cơn bão hạ thấp dần ở đường chân trời rồi chìm xuống cùng vầng dương. Chúng từ từ làm xoay chuyển những sắc cam, vàng và đỏ, thoạt tiên chuyển thành màu xanh xám, rồi bất chợt là những tông tươi sáng. Trong một khoảnh khắc ngắn, bầu trời là một tấm vải bạt mà mặt trời vấy lên đó những sắc màu tuyệt mỹ bằng những nét mạnh bạo. Rồi quả cầu màu cam sáng chạm mặt nước và, chỉ trong tích tắc, nó biến mất. Những đám mây trở lại với màu đen và tản mát dần. Đó là khung cảnh mặt trời lặn ở Cayman.”