Shoot All The Blue Jays You Want,

Next Morning I Awoke, Looked Out The Window And Nearly Died Of Fright. My Screams Brought Atticus From His Bathroom Half-shaven. "the World's Endin', Atticus! Please Do Something -!" I Dragged Him To The Window And Pointed. "no It's Not," He Said. "it's Snowing.

Don't You Study About Other Folks's Business Till You Take Care Of Your Own.

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.

There's No Substitute For The Love Of Language, For The Beauty Of An English Sentence. There's No Substitute For Struggling, If A Struggle Is Needed, To Make An English Sentence As Beautiful As It Should Be.

Now, 75 Years Later In An Abundant Society Where People Have Laptops, Cell Phones, Ipods, And Minds Like Empty Rooms, I Still Plod Along With Books. Instant Information Is Not For Me. I Prefer To Search Library Stacks Because When I Work To Learn Something, I Remember It. And, Oprah, Can You Imagine Curling Up In Bed To Read A Computer? Weeping For Anna Karenina And Being Terrified By Hannibal Lecter, Entering The Heart Of Darkness With Mistah Kurtz, Having Holden Caulfield Ring You Up — Some Things Should Happen On Soft Pages, Not Cold Metal.