Serving on a jury forces a man to make up his mind and declare himself about something. Men don't like to do that. Sometimes it's unpleasant.

You can pet him, Mr. Arthur. He's asleep.

I remember when my daddy gave me that gun. He told me that I should never point it at anything in the house; and that he'd rather I'd shoot at tin cans in the backyard. But he said that sooner or later he supposed the temptation to go after birds would be too much, and that I could shoot all the blue jays I wanted - if I could hit 'em; but to remember it was a sin to kill a mockingbird.

As I made my way home, I thought Jem and I would get grown but there wasn't much else for us to learn, except possibly algebra.

I came to the conclusion that people were just peculiar, I withdrew from them, and never thought about them until I was forced to.

I'm still old-fashioned. I love dusty old books and libraries.

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