Folks Were Doin' A Lot Of Runnin'

Dill Was Off Again. Beautiful Things Floated Around In His Dreamy Head. He Could Read Two Books To My One, But He Preferred The Magic Of His Own Inventions. He Could Add And Subtract Faster Than Lightning, But He Preferred His Own Twilight World, A World Where Babies Slept, Waiting To Be Gathered Like Morning Lilies.

Nothing Is More Deadly Than A Deserted, Waiting Street.

Hold Your Head High And Keep Those Fists Down - Atticus Finch

Miss Caroline Seemed Unaware That The Ragged, Denim-shirted And Floursack-skirted First Grade, Most Of Whom Had Chopped Cotton And Fed Hogs From The Time They Were Able To Walk, Were Immune To Imaginative Literature.

I Don't Hafta Take His Sass