Quotes - Page 153 | Just Great DataBase

All that five thousand kids lived in those five thousand houses, owned by guys that got off the train. The houses looked so much alike that, time and time again, the kids went home by mistake to different houses and different families. Nobody ever noticed.

We said good-bye, and Dill went inside the house. He evidently remembered he was engaged to me, for he ran back out and kissed me swiftly in front of Jem. "Yawl write, hear?" he bawled after us.

He jerked his head at Dill: 'Things haven't caught up with that one's instinct yet. Let him get a little older and he won't get sick and cry. Maybe things'll strike him as being- not quite right, say, but he won't cry, not when he gets a few years on him.''Cry about what, Mr. Raymond?' Dill's maleness was beginning to assert itself.'Cry about the simple hell people give each other- without even thinking. Cry about the hell white people give colored folks, without even stopping to think that they're people too.A reflection on the innocence and vulnerability of children

Eneke the bird says that since men have learned to shoot without missing, he has learned to fly without perching.

He wanted to explain how people were never quite what you thought they were.

They agreed passionately out of the depths of their tormented lives.

It is a sin to write this.

I didn’t like having to explain to them, so I just shut up, smoked a cigarette, and looked at the sea.

But at supper that evening after I asked him to pass the damn ham, please, Uncle Jack pointed at me. 'See me afterwards young lady,' he said.

But what is freedom? Freedom from what? There is nothing to take a man's freedom away from him, save other men. To be free, a man must be free of his brothers. That is freedom. That and nothing else.

Your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.

Novels, since the birth of the genre, have been full of rejected, seduced, and abandoned maidens, whose proper fate is to die...

She was without any power, because she was without any desire of command over herself.

For what says Quinapalus? Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.

I understand a fury in your wordsBut not your words.

Everything was made bright by her. She was the smile that shed light all around her.

It's not so much that he can't fall in love, but he has not the weakness necessary.

You might even provide a Heaven for them. We need You for that. Hell we can make for ourselves.

I try to congure, to raise my own spirits, from wherever they are. I need to remember what they look like. I try to hold them still behind my eyes, their faces, like pictures in an album. But they won't stay still for me, they move, there's a smile and it's gone, their features curl and bend as if the paper's burning, blackness eats them. A glimpse, a pale shimmer on the air; a glow, aurora, dance of electrons, then a face again, faces. But they fade, though I stretch out my arms towards them, they slip away from me, ghosts at daybreak. Back to wherever they are. Stay with me, I want to say. But they won't.It's my fault. I am forgetting too much.

I used to think of my body as an instrument, of pleasure, or a means of transportation, or an implement for the accomplishment of my will.