I'm No Idealist To Believe Firmly In

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

Don’t Talk Like That, Dill,” Said Aunt Alexandra. “it’s Not Becoming To A Child. It’s – Cynical.” “i Ain’t Cynical, Miss Alexandra. Tellin’ The Truth’s Not Cynical, Is It?” “the Way You Tell It, It Is.

It's Not Necessary To Tell All You Know. It's Not Ladylike -- In The Second Place, Folks Don't Like To Have Someone Around Knowin' More Than They Do. It Aggravates Them. Your Not Gonna Change Any Of Them By Talkin' Right, They've Got To Want To Learn Themselves, And When They Don't Want To Learn There's Nothing You Can Do But Keep Your Mouth Shut Or Talk Their Language.

I Could Think Of Nothing Else To Say To Her. In Fact I Could Never Think Of Anything To Say To Her, And I Sat Thinking Of Past Painful Conversations Between Us: How Are You, Jean Louise? Fine, Thank You Ma'am, How Are You? Very Well, Thank You; What Have You Been Doing With Yourself? Nothin'. Don't You Do Anything? Nome. Certainly You Have Friends? Yessum. Well What Do You All Do? Nothin'.

I Came To The Conclusion That People Were Just Peculiar, I Withdrew From Them, And Never Thought About Them Until I Was Forced To.