Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

 is a novel by American author Mark Twain, which was first published in the United Kingdom in December 1884 and in the United States in February 1885. It is a direct sequel to The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.

Commonly named among the, the work is among the first in major American literature to be written throughout in vernacular English, characterized by local color regionalism. It is told in the first person by Huckleberry "Huck" Finn, the wild friend of Tom Sawyer, who has run away from home, and the story traces his wanderings with the fugitive slave Jim, as they proceed down the Mississippi on a raft.

Quotes

 * Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR P ER G. G., CHIEF OF ORDNANCE
 * Notice

Chapter I

 * You don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter. That book was made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth.


 * After supper she got out her book and learned me about Moses and the Bulrushers.


 * I don’t take no stock in dead people.


 * A tolerable slim old maid, with goggles on.


 * Then she told me all about the bad place, and I said I wished I was there. She got mad then, but I didn’t mean no harm. All I wanted was to go somewheres; all I wanted was a change, I warn’t particular.


 * I felt so lonesome I most wished I was dead. The stars were shining, and the leaves rustled in the woods ever so mournful; and I heard an owl, away off, who-whooing about somebody that was dead, and a whippowill and a dog crying about somebody that was going to die; and the wind was trying to whisper something to me, and I couldn’t make out what it was, and so it made the cold shivers run over me.

Chapter 2

 * If you are with the quality, or at a funeral, or trying to go to sleep when you ain't sleepy — if you are anywheres where it won't do for you to scratch, why you will itch all over in upwards of a thousand places.


 * Jim was most ruined for a servant, because he got stuck up on account of having seen the devil and been rode by witches.

Chapter 4

 * I had been to school most all the time and could spell and read and write just a little, and could say the multiplication table up to six times seven is thirty-five, and I don’t reckon I could ever get any further than that if I was to live forever. I don’t take no stock in mathematics, anyway.


 * You gwyne to have considable trouble in yo’ life, en considable joy. Sometimes you gwyne to git hurt, en sometimes you gwyne to git sick; but every time you’s gwyne to git well agin.

Chapter 6

 * He had been drunk over in town, and laid in the gutter all night, and he was a sight to look at. A body would a thought he was —he was just all mud.


 * A man can’t get his rights in a govment like this. Sometimes I’ve a mighty notion to just leave the country for good and all.

Chaprer 11

 * Stars and shadows ain’t good to see by.

Chapter 12

 * We catched fish and talked, and we took a swim now and then to keep off sleepiness. It was kind of solemn, drifting down the big, still river, laying on our backs looking up at the stars, and we didn't ever feel like talking loud, and it warn't often that we laughed, only a little kind of a low chuckle. We had mighty good weather as a general thing, and nothing ever happened to us at all, that night, nor the next, nor the next.

Chapter 16

 * Well, then, says I, what's the use you learning to do right when it's troublesome to do right and ain't no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same? I was stuck. I couldn't answer that. So I reckoned I wouldn't bother no more about it, but after this always do whichever come handiest at the time.

Chapter 17

 * Pilgrim's Progress, about a man that left his family, it didn't say why. I read considerable in it now and then. The statements was interesting, but tough.

Chapter 18

 * He was sunshine most always—I mean he made it seem like good weather.


 * A feud is this way. A man has a quarrel with another man, and kills him; then that other man’s brother kills him; then the other brothers, on both sides, goes for one another; then the cousins chip in—and by-and-by everybody’s killed off, and there ain’t no more feud. But it’s kind of slow, and takes a long time


 * There warn't anybody at the church, except maybe a hog or two, for there warn't any lock on the door, and hogs likes a puncheon floor in summer-time because it's cool. If you notice, most folks don't go to church only when they've got to; but a hog is different.


 * We said there warn't no home like a raft, after all. Other places do seem so cramped up and smothery, but a raft don't. You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft.

Chapter 19

 * It’s lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether they was made or only just happened. Jim he allowed they was made, but I allowed they happened; I judged it would have took too long to make so many.

Chapter 21

 * To be, or not to be; that is the bare bodkin.


 * Everybody yelled at him, and laughed at him, and sassed him, and he sassed back, and said he'd attend to them and lay them out in their regular turns, but he couldn't wait now, because he'd come to town to kill old Colonel Sherburn, and his motto was, "Meat first, and spoon vittles to top off on."

Chapter 22

 * The average man don’t like trouble and danger.


 * The pitifulest thing out is a mob; that’s what an army is—a mob; they don’t fight with courage that’s born in them, but with courage that’s borrowed from their mass, and from their officers. But a mob without any man at the head of it is beneath pitifulness.

Chapter 23

 * All kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur as I can make out.


 * Kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they’re a mighty ornery lot. It’s the way they’re raised.

Chapter 26

 * That night they had a big supper, and all them men and women was there, and I stood behind the king and the duke’s chairs and waited on them, and the niggers waited on the rest. Mary Jane she set at the head of the table, with Susan alongside of her, and said how bad the biscuits was, and how mean the preserves was, and how ornery and tough the fried chickens was—and all that kind of rot, the way women always do for to force out compliments; and the people all knowed everything was tiptop, and said so—said “How do you get biscuits to brown so nice?” and “Where, for the land’s sake, did you get these amaz’n pickles?” and all that kind of humbug talky-talk.


 * H'aint we got all the fools in town on our side? And ain't that a big enough majority in any town?

Chapter 28

 * I don’t want no better book than what your face is.


 * It’s the little things that smooths people’s roads the most, down here below.

Chapter 29

 * I couldn’t bear to think about it; and yet, somehow, I couldn’t think about nothing else.

Chapter 31

 * You can’t pray a lie—I found that out.


 * I was a-trembling, because I'd got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself, "All right, then, I'll go to hell."

Chapter 33

 * Human beings can be awful cruel to one another.

Chapter 36

 * Right is right, and wrong is wrong, and a body ain’t got no business doing wrong when he ain’t ignorant and knows better.

Chapter 39

 * I do not wish any reward but to know I have done the right thing.


 * “How’d you say he got shot?” “He had a dream,” I says, “and it shot him.” “Singular dream,” he says.


 * When a prisoner of style escapes it’s called an evasion.

Chapter 43

 * So there ain't nothing more to write about, and I am rotten glad of it, because if I'd a knowed what a trouble it was to make a book I wouldn't a tackled it and aint't agoing to no more. But I reckon I got to light out for the Territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she's going to adopt me and sivilize me and I can't stand it. I been there before.

About

 * All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain called Huckleberry Finn. If you read it you must stop where the Nigger Jim is stolen from the boys. That is the real end. The rest is just cheating. But it’s the best book we’ve had. All American writing comes from that. There was nothing before. There has been nothing as good since.
 * Ernest Hemingway,  (Charles Scribner's Sons, 1935), p. 22


 * Like Huckleberry Finn, the River itself has no beginning or end. In its beginning, it is not yet the River; in its end, it is no longer the River.
 * T. S. Eliot, "Introduction", The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (London: Cresset Press, 1950), pp. vii–xvi