Neighbours bring food with death and flowers with sickness and little things in between. Boo was our neighbour. He gave us two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of good luck pennies, and our lives.
Little Chuck Little, a hundred years old in his knowledge of cows and their habits, was halfway through an Uncle Natchell story when Miss Gates stopped him: ‘Charles, that is not a current event. That is an advertisement.
Seven o’clock and all’s well,” said Atticus. “You’ve been swearing at your aunt.” “I have not.” “She told me you had.” “I was crude, but I didn’t cuss her.
I never looked forward more to anything in my life. Hours of wintertime had found me in the tree-house looking over at the school yard, spying on multitudes of children through a two-power telescope Jem had given me, learning their games, following Jem’s red jacket through wriggling circles of blind man’s buff, secretly sharing their misfortunes and minor victories. I longed to join them.
The house got so lonesome ’long about two o’clock I had to turn on the radio.
No war was ever fought for so many different reasons meeting in one reason clear as crystal. They fought to preserve their identity. Their political identity, their personal identity.” Dr.
New York has all the answers. People go to the YMHA, the English-Speaking Union, Carnegie Hall, the New School for Social Research, and find all the answers. The city lives by slogans, isms, and fast sure answers. New York is saying to me right now: you, Jean Louise Finch, are not reacting according to our doctrines regarding your kind, therefore you do not exist.
There was no doubt about it: Alexandra Finch Hancock was imposing from any angle; her behind was no less uncompromising than her front.
Dear goodness, the things you learned.
Cynical, hell. I’m a healthy old man with a constitutional mistrust of paternalism and government in large doses.
No, don’t tell me, let me tell you: you had a marvelous time but you wouldn’t dream of living there.
You deny them hope. Any man in this word, Atticus, any man who has a head and arms and legs, was born with hope in his heart.
You never went to school and you do all right, so I’ll just stay home too. You can teach me like Grandaddy taught you ’n’ Uncle Jack.
But in the absence of eye-witness there’s always a doubt, sometimes only the shadow of a doubt. The law says ‘reasonable doubt’, but I think a defendant’s entitled to the shadow of doubt. There’s always the possibility, no matter how improbable, that he’s innocent.
You can’t do that, Scout,” Atticus said. “Sometimes it’s better to bend the law a little in special cases. In your case, the law remains rigid. So to school you must go.
The people became no less than what they were to begin with – in some cases they became horrifyingly more. They were never destroyed. They were ground into the dirt and up they popped.
I thought we were just people. I have no idea.” Her uncle smiled, and an unholy light appeared in his eyes. He’s gonna skate off now, she thought. I can never catch him and bring him back.
Jem and I found our father satisfactory: he played with us, read to us, and treated us with courteous detachment.
Sherlock Holmes and Jem Finch would agree.
The Gray Ghost, by Seckatary Hawkins.