"Maycomb was a tired old town, even in 1932 when I first knew it. Somehow, it was hotter then. Men's stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning; ladies bathed before noon, after their three o'clock naps, and by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frosting from sweating and sweet talcum."

"The day was twenty-four hours long, but it seemed longer. There was no hurry, for there was nowhere to go and nothing to buy... and no money to buy it with. Although Maycomb County had recently been told that it had nothing to fear but fear itself... That summer, I was six years old."

"Good morning, Mr. Cunningham."

"Good morning, miss."

"My daddy's getting dressed. Would you like me to call him for you?"

"No, miss, I don't care to bother."

"Why, it's no bother, Mr. Cunningham. He'll be happy to see you."

"Atticus! Atticus! Here's Mr. Cunningham!"

"Good morning, Walter."

"Good morning, Mr. Finch. I didn't want to bother you none. I brought you these hickory nuts as part of my entailment."

"Thank you. The collards we had last week were delicious."

"Scout, I think maybe next time Mr. Cunningham comes, you'd better not call me."

"I thought you'd want to thank him."

"Oh, I do. But I think it embarrasses him to be thanked."

"Why does he bring you all this stuff?"

"He is paying me for some legal work I did for him."

"Why is he paying you like this?"

"That's the only way he can. He has no money."

"Is he poor?"

"Yes."

"Are we poor?"

"We are, indeed."

"Are we as poor as the Cunninghams?"

"No, not exactly. The Cunninghams are country folks, farmers. The Crash hit them the hardest."

"Scout, call your brother."

"Atticus, Jem's up in the tree. He says he won't come down until you agree to play football for the Methodists."

"Jem? Son, why don't you come on down out of there now and have your breakfast? Calpurnia has a good one. Hot biscuits."

"No, sir. Not until you agree to play football for the Methodists."

"Son, I can't do that. I explained to you, I'm too old to get out there. After all, I'm the only father you have. You wouldn't want me to go and get my head knocked off, would you?"

"I ain't coming down."

"Suit yourself."

"Morning."

"Good morning, Miss Maudie."

"What's going on over there?"

"I'm having a terrible time, Miss Maudie. Jem's staying up in the tree until Atticus agrees to play football for the Methodists and Atticus says he's too old. Every time I want him to do something, he's too old. He's too old for anything."

"He can do plenty of things. You be good, children. Mind Cal."

"Good morning, Maudie."

"Good morning, Atticus."

"He won't let me have a gun and he'll only play touch football with me, never tackle."

"He can make somebody's will so airtight you can't break it. You count your blessings and stop complaining, both of you."

"Thank your stars he has the sense to act his age."

"Jem, he is pretty old."

"I can't help that."

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself."

"I'm Charles Baker Harris. I can read. You got anything that needs reading, I can do it."

"How old are you?"

"Four-and-a-half?"

"Going on seven."

"No wonder, then. Scout's been reading since she was born, and she don't start school till next month. You look right puny for going on seven."

"I'm little, but I'm old. Folks call me Dill. I'm from Meridian, Mississippi and I'm spending two weeks next door with my aunt Stephanie."

"My mama worked for a photographer in Meridian. She entered my picture in the Beautiful Child contest and won $5 on it. She gave the money to me and I went to the picture show 20 times with it."

"Our mama's dead but we've got a daddy."

"Where's your daddy?"

"I haven't got one."

"Is he dead?"

"No."

"Well, if he's not dead, you've got one, haven't you?"

"Hush, Scout."

"What did I do? What did I do?"

"Uh, Dill, this is Calpurnia."

"Pleased to know you, Dill."

"Pleased to know you."

"My daddy owns the L and N Railroad. He's going to let me run the engine all the way to New Orleans."

"Is that so?"

"He says I can invite anybody..."

"Shh. There goes the meanest man that ever took a breath of life."

"Why is he the meanest man?"

"Well, for one thing, he has a boy named Boo that he keeps chained to a bed in the house over yonder."

"Come on. See, he lives over there."

"Boo only comes out at night when you're asleep and it's pitch dark. When you wake up at night, you can hear him. Once I heard him scratching on our screen door but he was gone by the time Atticus got there."

"I wonder what he does in there."

"I wonder what he looks like."

"Well, judging from his tracks, he's about 6'6" tall. He eats raw squirrels and all the cats he can catch. There's a long, jagged scar that runs all the way across his face. His teeth are yellow and rotten. His eyes are popped, and he drools most of the time."

"Oh, I don't believe you."

"Dill, what are you doing here? My Lord, Aunt Stephanie! You almost gave me a heart attack. Dill, I don't want you playing around that house over there. There's a maniac lives there and he's dangerous."

"See? I was just trying to warn him about Boo. He wouldn't believe me."

"You'd just better believe him, Mr. Dill Harris. Tell him about the time Boo tried to kill his papa."

"I was standing in my yard one day when his mama come out yelling, 'He's killing us all.' Turned out that Boo was sitting in the living room cutting up the paper for his scrapbook, and when his daddy come by, he reached over with his scissors, stabbed him in his leg, pulled them out and went right on cutting the paper."

"They wanted to send him to an asylum. But his daddy said, 'No Radley is going to any asylum.' So they locked him up in the basement of the courthouse till he nearly died of the damp, and his daddy brought him back home. There he is, to this day, sitting over there with his scissors. Lord knows what he's doing or thinking."

"Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Come on, Scout. It's 5:00."

"Where are you going?"

"Time to meet Atticus."

"Why do you call your daddy Atticus?"

"Because Jem does."

"But why does he?"

"I don't know. He just started to ever since he began talking."

"Wait, stop. Mrs. Dubose is on her porch. Listen, no matter what she says to you, don't answer her back. There's a Confederate pistol in her lap under her shawl and she'll kill you as quick as look at you. Come on."

"Hey, Mrs. Dubose."

"Don't you say 'hey' to me, you ugly girl! You say, 'Good afternoon, Mrs. Dubose.' You come over here when I'm talking to you!"

"Hey, Atticus."

"Atticus, this is Dill."

"How do you do, Dill?"

"Don't your daddy teach you to respect old people? You come back here, Jean Louise Finch!"

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Dubose. My! You look like a picture this afternoon."

"He don't say a picture of what."

"My goodness gracious, look at your flowers. Have you ever seen anything more beautiful? Mrs. Dubose, the gardens at Bellingrath have nothing to compare with your flowers."

"I don't think they're as nice as last year."

"I can't agree with you. He gets her interested in something nice so she forgets being mean. I think your yard is going to be the showplace of this town."

"Well... Grand seeing you, Mrs. Dubose."