John Coffey: Poor old Del.
Paul Edgecomb: Yeah. Poor old Del. John, you okay...?
John Coffey: I could feel it from here.
Paul Edgecomb: What do you mean? You could hear it. Is that what you mean? You could hear it.
John Coffey: He out of it now, though. He the lucky one. No matter how it happened, Del the lucky one.
Paul Edgecomb: Where's Mr. Jingles?
John Coffey: He run away under that door. Don't think he'll be back. He felt it too, through me. Didn't mean to hurt him none. All that hurt just spill out. Awful tired now, boss. Dog-tired.
Paul Edgecomb: Me too, John. Me too.