You cannot polish a jem without friction

books are a work of art. every word has a place in those pages, there is a reason they are there.

if grass can find a way to grown through the grass on footpaths, trust me, you can find a way to do anything.

i think some things come with thier own punnishements. like rooms with built-in cupboards

Jem, naturally, was Boo: he went under the front steps and shrieked and howled from time to time.

When it was time to play Boo's big scene, Jem would sneak into the house, steal the scissors from the sewingmachine drawer when Calpurnia's back was turned, then sit in the swing and cut up newspapers. Dill would walk by, cough at Jem, and Jem would fake a plunge into Dill's thigh. From where I stood it looked real.