There Are Some Men In

Dill Said Striking A Match Under A Turtle Was Hateful. “how Do You Know A Match Don't Hurt Him?” “turtles Can't Feel, Stupid,” Said Jem. “where You Ever A Turtle, Huh?

Hey, Mr. Cunningham. How's Your Entailment Gettin' Along?

Any Writer Worth His Salt Writes To Please Himself.

I Had Never Thought About It, But Summer Was Dill By The Fishpool Smoking String, Dill's Eyes Alive With Complicated Plans To Make Boo Radley Emerge; Summer Was The Swiftness With Which Dill Would Reach Up And Kiss Me When Jem Was Not Looking, The Longings We Sometimes Felt Each Other Feel. With Him, Life Was Routine; Without Him, Life Was Unbearable..." - Scout Finch

We Said Good-bye, And Dill Went Inside The House. He Evidently Remembered He Was Engaged To Me, For He Ran Back Out And Kissed Me Swiftly In Front Of Jem. "yawl Write, Hear?" He Bawled After Us.