You can pet him, Mr. Arthur. He's asleep.
Turtles don't feel, stupid," said Jem. "Were you ever a turtle, huh?
With him, life was routine; without him, life was unbearable.
Ladies bathed before noon, after their three o'clock naps, and by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frostings of sweat and sweet talcum.
He turned out the light and went into Jem's room. He would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning.
There's just some kind of men you have to shoot before you can say hidy to 'em. Even then, they ain't worth the bullet it takes to shoot 'em.