It's Not Necessary To Tell All You

Calpurnia Evidently Remembered A Rainy Sunday When We Were Both Fatherless And Teacherless. Let To Its Own Devices, The Class Tied Eunice Ann Simpson To A Chair And Placed Her In The Furnace Room. We Forgot Her, Trooped Upstairs To Church, And Were Listening Quietly To The Sermon When A Dreadful Banging Issued From The Radiator Pipes, Persisting Until Someone Investigated And Brought Forth Eunice Ann Saying She Didn't Want To Play Shadrach Any More - Jem Finch Said She Wouldn't Get Burnt If She Had Enough Faith, But It Was Hot Down There.

A Man Can Condemn His Enemies, But It's Wiser To Know Them.

Mockingbirds Don’t Do One Thing But Make Music For Us To Enjoy. They Don’t Eat Up People’s Gardens, Don’t Nest In Corncribs, They Don’t Do One Thing But Sing Their Hearts Out For Us. That’s Why It’s A Sin To Kill A Mockingbird.

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.

Somewhere, I Had Received The Impression That Fine Folks Were People Who Did The Best They Could With The Sense They Had, But Aunt Alexandra Was Of The Opinion, Obliquely Expressed, That The Longer A Family Had Been Squatting On One Patch Of Land The Finer It Was.