Sean Penn credited as playing...
Matthew Poncelet
- Sister Helen Prejean: You are a son of God.
- Matthew Poncelet: [in tears] Thank you. I've never been called a son of God before.
- [laughs slightly]
- Matthew Poncelet: I've been called a son of a you-know-what plenty of times, but I've never been called a son of God.
- Sister Helen Prejean: Show me some respect, Matthew.
- Matthew Poncelet: Why? 'Cause you're a nun?
- Sister Helen Prejean: Because I'm a person.
- Matthew Poncelet: I just wanna say I think killin' is wrong, no matter who does it, whether it's me or y'all or your government.
- Prison guard: Do you have any last words, Poncelet?
- Matthew Poncelet: Yes, I do.
- [pauses]
- Matthew Poncelet: Mr. Delacroix, I don't wanna leave this world with any hate in my heart. I ask your forgiveness for what I done. It was a terrible thing I done, taking your son away from you.
- Clyde Percy: [Softly to his wife] How about us?
- Matthew Poncelet: Mr. and Mrs. Percy, I hope my death gives you some relief.
- Matthew Poncelet: It's quiet. Only three days left. Plenty of time to read my Bible and look for a loophole.
- Matthew Poncelet: I like rebels. Some blacks is ok. Martin Luther King, he led his people all the way to DC and kicked the white man's butt.
- Sister Helen Prejean: You respect Martin Luther King?
- Matthew Poncelet: He put up a fight. He wasn't lazy.
- Sister Helen Prejean: What about lazy whites?
- Matthew Poncelet: Don't like 'em.
- Sister Helen Prejean: So it's lazy people you don't like?
- Matthew Poncelet: Dear Sister Helen, thank you for writing to me. I'm writing from my home. my 6- by-8-foot cell. I'm in here 23 hours a day. We don't work on death row. We're special here. They keep us away from the general population. We're the elite because we gonna fry. It's hard not to get soft here. I press my footlocker, lift it, to try to get my muscles in shape. It's hard not to get fat. Rice, potatoes, pancakes, beans. Sometimes I feel like a sow on a farm... that's being fattened up for a Christmas slaughter. I dreamt once that I was about to be fried in the chair... and then God come into my cell with a chef's hat on. He rolled me around in bread crumbs, licking His chops and all. Maybe I'm a weirdo to have dreams like that but your mind does funny things when you're surrounded... by people that want to kill you. Anyway, thanks for writing. I don't get many letters or visitors either. No one in my family seems able to make the trip out here. I understand. It's a long drive from Slidell.