Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit ’em, but remember it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird. That was the only time I ever heard Atticus say it was a sin to do something, and I asked Miss Maudie about it. Your father’s right, she said. Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corncribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.
Mais ce pays met en application l’idée que tous les hommes naissent égaux dans une institution humaine qui fait du pauvre l’égal d’un Rockefeller, du crétin l’égal d’un Einstein,et de l’ignorant l’égal de n’importe quel directeur de lycée. Cette institution, messieurs les jurés, c’est le tribunal.
on what we heard— Now don’t you be so confident, Mr. Jem, I ain’t ever seen any jury decide in favor of a colored man over a white man. . . . But Jem took exception to Reverend Sykes, and we were subjected to a lengthy review of the evidence with Jem’s ideas on the law regarding rape: it wasn’t rape if she let you, but she had to be eighteen—in Alabama,
turned around and punched his pillow. When he settled back his face was cloudy. He was going into one of his declines, and I grew wary. His brows came together; his mouth became a thin line. He was silent for a while. That’s what I thought, too, he said at last, when I was your age. If there’s just one kind of folks, why can’t they get along with each other? If they’re all alike, why do they go out of their way to despise each other? Scout, I think I’m beginning to understand something. I think I’m beginning to understand why Boo Radley’s stayed shut up in the house all this time . . . it’s because he wants to stay inside.
One of them stepped from the crowd. It was Zeebo, the garbage collector. Mister Jem, he said, we’re mighty glad to have you all here. Don’t pay no ’tention to Lula, she’s contentious because Reverend Sykes threatened to church her. She’s a troublemaker from way back, got fancy ideas an’ haughty ways—we’re mighty glad to have you all. With that, Calpurnia led us to the church door where we were greeted by Reverend Sykes, who led us to the front pew. First Purchase was unceiled and unpainted within. Along its walls unlighted kerosense lamps hung on brass brackets; pine benches served as pews. Behind the rough oak pulpit a faded pink silk banner proclaimed God Is Love, the church’s only decoration except a roto-gravure print of Hunt’s The Light of the World.
Kad neko umre susedi donose hranu, cveće kad se neko razboli, a između toga malo šta. Bu je bio naš sused. Poklonio nam je dve lutkice od sapuna, pokvareni sat na lancu, dve parice koje donose sreću, i naše živote. Ali susedi vraćaju uzdarjima. Mi u drvo nikada nismo vratili ono što smo izvadili iz njega; mi njemu nismo dali ništa, i ja se rastužih zbog toga.
Gracious no, Scout. What’s eatin’ you? Well, coming out of the courthouse that night Miss Gates was—she was goin’ down the steps in front of us, you musta not seen her—she was talking with Miss Stephanie Crawford. I heard her say it’s time somebody taught ’em a lesson, they were gettin’ way above themselves, an’ the next thing they think they can do is marry us. Jem, how can you hate Hitler so bad an’ then turn around and be ugly about folks right at home—
Scout, said Atticus, nigger-lover is just one of those terms that don’t mean anything—like snot-nose. It’s hard to explain—ignorant, trashy people use it when they think somebody’s favoring Negroes over and above themselves. It’s slipped into usage with some people like ourselves, when they want a common, ugly term to label somebody. You aren’t really a nigger-lover, then, are you? I certainly am. I do my best to love everybody . . . I’m hard put, sometimes—baby, it’s never an insult to be called what somebody thinks is a bad name. It just shows you how poor that person is, it doesn’t hurt you. So don’t let Mrs. Dubose get you down. She has enough troubles of her own. One
Gentlemen, a court is no better than each man of you sitting before me on this jury. A court is only as sound as its jury, and a jury is only as sound as the men who make it up. I am confident that you gentlemen will review without passion the evidence you have heard, come to a decision, and restore this defendant to his family. In the name of God, do your duty. Atticus’s
No, Jem, io credo che la gente sia di un tipo solo: gente, e basta!"[...]"E' quel che pensavo anch'io quando avevo la tua età" disse infine. "Ma se gli uomini fossero di un tipo solo, come ti spieghi che non vanno mai d'accordo tra loro? Se son tutti uguali perché passano la vita a disprezzarsi a vicenda?