I try to give'em a reason, you see. It helps folks if they can latch onto a reason.

She's an old lady and she's ill. You just hold your head high and be a gentleman. Whatever she says to you, it's your job not to let her make you mad.

We’re so rarely called on to be Christians, but when we are, we’ve got men like Atticus to go for us.

When I pointed to him his palms slipped slightly, leaving greasy sweat streaks on the wall, and he hooked his thumbs in his belt. A strange spasm shook him, as if he heard fingernails scrape slate, but as I gazed at him in wonder the tension slowly drained from his face. His lips parted into a timid smile, and our neighbor’s image blurred with my sudden tears. “Hey, Boo,” I said. “Mr. Arthur, honey,” said Atticus, gently correcting me. “Jean Louise, this is Mr. Arthur Radley. I believe he already knows you.

They're ugly, but those are the facts of life.

Try fighting with your head for a change... it's a good one, even if it does resist learning.

Atticus told me to delete the adjectives and I'd have the facts.