Quotes About Conversation

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.

Atticus had said it was the polite thing to talk to people about what they were interested in, not about what you were interested in.

Hey, Mr. Cunningham. How's your entailment gettin' along?

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'.

Miss Maudie settled her bridgework. "You know old Mr. Radley was a foot-washing Baptist—" "That's what you are, ain't it?" "My shell's not that hard, child. I'm just a Baptist." "Don't you all believe in foot-washing?" "We do. At home in the bathtub." "But we can't have communion with you all—

Miss Maudie settled her bridgework. "You know old Mr. Radley was a foot-washing Baptist—" "That's what you are, ain't it?" "My shell's not that hard, child. I'm just a Baptist.

Seven o'clock and all's well," said Atticus. "You've been swearing at your aunt." "I have not." "She told me you had." "I was crude, but I didn't cuss her.

Atticus said it was the polite thing to talk to people about what they were interested in, not about what you were interested in. Mr. Cunningham displayed no interest in his son, so I tackled his entailment once more in a last-ditch effort to make him feel at home.

She knocked and went in. Atticus was in bed reading. "Have a good time?" "I had a won-derful time," she said. "Atticus?" "Hm?

I breathed again. It wasn't me, it was only Calpurnia they were talking about. Revived, I entered the livingroom. Atticus had retreated behind his newspaper and Aunt Alexandra was worrying her embroidery

Good evening, Mrs Dubose! You look like a picture this evening.' I never heard Atticus say like a picture of what. He would tell her the court-house news, and would say he hoped with all his heart she'd have a good day tomorrow. He would return his hat to his head, swing me to his shoulders in her very presence, and we would go home in the twilight. It was times like these when I thought my father, who hated guns and had never been to any wars, was the bravest man who ever lived.

Talking to Francis gave me the sensation of settling slowly to the bottom of the ocean. He was the most boring child I ever met.

The crowd was visibly impressed with Jean Louise. Girls she saw every day asked her where she got her dress, as if they didn't all get them there: "Ginsberg's. Calpurnia took it up," she said. Several of the younger boys with whom she had been on eye-gouging terms only a few years ago made self-conscious conversation with her.

The jail was Maycomb's only conversation piece: its detractors said it looked like a Victorian privy; its supporters said it gave the town a good solid respectable look, and no stranger would ever suspect that it was full of niggers.

ConversaÈ›ia cu Francis îmi d?dea senzaÈ›ia unei scufund?ri lente în adâncul oceanului

Several of the younger boys with whom she had been on eye-gouging terms only a few years ago made self-conscious conversation with her.

Sitting and listening to people you went to school with is excruciating for an hour. To hear the same conversion day in and day out is better than the Chinese torture method.

it is not how many people come, or even who comes (in the sense of status or position) that counts, rather it is the quality of the interaction and conversation that make the difference.

But why should you be interested in me? Good question. I can't explain it myself right this moment. But maybe – just maybe – if we start getting together and talking, after a while something like Francis Lai's soundtrack music will start playing in the background, and a whole slew of concrete reasons why I'm interested in you will line up out of nowhere. With luck, it might even snow for us.

Whenever I look at the ocean, I always want to talk to people, but when I'm talking to people, I always want to look at the ocean.

He was silent for thirty seconds, maybe a minute. I uncrossed my legs under the table and wondered if this was the right moment to leave. It was as if my whole life revolved around trying to judge the right point in a conversation to say goodbye.

To be able to talk to your heart's content about a book you like with someone who feels the same way about it is one of the greatest joys that life can offer.

What do we talk about? Just ordinary things. What happened today, or books we've read, or tomorrow's weather, you know. Don't tell me you're wondering if people jump to their feet and shout stuff like 'It'll rain tomorrow if a polar bear eats the stars tonight!

She and I would trade books, talk endlessly, drink cheap whiskey, engage in unremarkable sex. You know, the stuff of everyday.