...when I left her to-day, she put her arms around me and felt my shoulder blades, to see if my wings were strong, she said. 'The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised, exhausted, fluttering back to earth.'
I simply want to tell you that there are some men in this world who were born to do our unpleasant jobs for us. Your father’s one of them.Oh, said Jem. Well.Don’t you oh well me, sir, Miss Maudie replied, recognizing Jem’s fatalistic noises, you are not old enough to appreciate what I said.Jem was staring at his half-eaten cake. It’s like bein’ a caterpillar in a cocoon, that’s what it is, he said. Like somethin’ asleep wrapped up in a warm place. I always thought Maycomb folks were the best folks in the world, least that’s what they seemed like.We’re the safest folks in the world, said Miss Maudie. We’re so rarely called on to be Christians, but when we are, we’ve got men like Atticus to go for us.
It is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly.