”There's some folks who don't eat like us," she whispered fiercely, "but you ain't called on to contradict 'em at the table when they don't. That boy's yo' comp'ny and if he wants to eat up the table cloth you let him, you hear?"
“I am not. 't's morbid, watching a poor devil on trial for his life. Look at all those folks, it's like a Roman carnival."
“I think there's just one kind of folks. Folks.”
“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view....Until you climb into his skin and walk around in it."