Sickness, torment, cackly-voices... read on and learn more about the life of the self-titled crazy lady of Maycomb County.
"She was very old; she spent most of each day in bed and the rest of it in a wheel chair. It was rumored that she kept a CSA postol concealed among her numerous shawls and wraps."

Pieces of the book I've managed to butcher and put on the web.
"Good evening, Mrs. Dubose! You look like a picture this evening." I never heard Atticus say a picture of what..."

Save the paper, save the trees.. save me some work?
"..we would be raked by her wrathful gaze, subjecting to ruthless interrogation regarding our behavior, and given a melancholy prediction on what we would amount to when we grew up, which was always nothing."

Tell me when I can stop updating..
"We could do nothing to please her. If I said as sunnily as I could, "Hey, Mrs. Dubose," I would receive for an answer, "Don’t you say hey to me, you ugly girl! You say good afternoon, Mrs. Dubose!"