His presence soon restored confidence.

O how I envied him his feelings!

I thought that Mr. Clutter was a very nice gentleman. I thought so right up to the moment that I cut his throat.

We gave him a hearty welcome, for there was nearly half as much of the entertaining as of the contemptible about the man..

And I remember when I met him, it was so clear that he was the only one for me. We both knew it, right away. And as the years went on, things got more difficult – we were faced with more challenges. I begged him to stay. Try to remember what we had at the beginning.

He was charismatic, magnetic, electric and everybody knew it. When he walked in every woman’s head turned, everyone stood up to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn’t contain himself. I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him. And in that way, I understood him and I loved him.

I loved him, I loved him, I loved him.

And I still love him. I love him.

A occasional whiff of his personality drifted back to me.

That was something of a revelation to me, that a young man could be kind.

You couldn't not like someone who liked the guitar.

That's what was great about him. He tried. Not many do.

"Atticus, he was real nice."

"Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them."

He's the sort of guy that gets a laugh out of people.

He was liked when noticed, but not noticed much, and that did him no harm either.

She had liked him for himself, that was indisputable. And yet, much as she had liked him she had liked the bourgeois standard of valuation more.

I was a swell guy. I enjoyed being me.