I had never thought about it, but summer was Dill by the fishpool smoking string, Dill's eyes alive with complicated plans to make Boo Radley emerge; summer was the swiftness with which Dill would reach up and kiss me when Jem was not looking, the longings we sometimes felt each other feel. With him, life was routine; without him, life was unbearable..." - Scout Finch

Miss Caroline seemed unaware that the ragged, denim-shirted and floursack-skirted first grade, most of whom had chopped cotton and fed hogs from the time they were able to walk, were immune to imaginative literature.

I think there's just one kind of folks. Folks.

I know now what he was trying to do, but Atticus was only a man. It takes a woman to do that kind of work.

Shoot all the blue jays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird.

Ladies in bunches always filled me with vague apprehension and a firm desire to be elsewhere.

...in other words, all I want to be is the Jane Austen of south Alabama Interview - March 1964