– Я бы предпочёл, чтобы ты стрелял на огороде по жестянкам, но знаю, ты начнёшь бить птиц. Если сумеешь попасть в сойку, стреляй их сколько угодно, но помни: убить пересмешника большой грех.Я впервые слышала, чтоб Аттикус про что-нибудь сказал - грех, и спросила мисс Моди, почему грех.– Твой отец прав, - сказала мисс Моди. - Пересмешник - самая безобидная птица, он только поёт нам на радость. Пересмешники не клюют ягод в саду, не гнездятся в овинах, они только и делают, что поют для нас свои песни. Вот поэтому убить пересмешника - грех.
Чувствуваше се унизена и скръбна;съжаляваше, макар да не знаеше точно защо. Сега копнееше залюбовта му — сега, когато вече нямаше надежда да я има. Искаше даполучи вест от него, когато вероятността да й пише бе напълнозагубена. Уверена бе, че ще е щастлива с него, когато стана ясно, ченикога не ще се срещнат.
Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy. She had been unwilling to mention Bingley; and the unsettled state of her own feelings had made her equally avoid the name of his friend. But now she would no longer conceal from her his share in Lydia's marriage. All was acknowledged, and half the night spent in conversation.
Beautiful things floated around in his dreamy head. He could read two books to my one, but he preferred the magic of his own inventions. He could add and subtract faster than lightning, but he preferred his own twilight world, a world where babies slept, waiting to be gathered like morning lilies. He was slowly talking himself to sleep and taking me with him, but in the quietness of his foggy island there rose the faded image of a grey house with sad brown doors.