Atticus, he was real nice.
I think there’s just one kind of folks – folks.
I was born good, but had grown progressively worse every year.
Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read.
I know now what he was trying to do, but Atticus was only a man.
Neighbors bring food with death and flowers with sickness and little things in between.
I looked around and up at Mr. Cunningham, whose face was equally impassive. Then he did a peculiar thing. He squatted down and took me by both shoulders.
I’m going to tell you something and tell you one time: stop tormenting that man. That goes for the other two of you.
Now don’t you be so gloomy. Law’d have mercy on you. I had a vision, ‘sides Aunt Alexandra’s dyin’ still with me.
You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.
Atticus told me to delete the adjectives and I’d have the facts.
Atticus, he was real nice.
Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy.
Atticus had said it was the polite thing to talk to people about what they were interested in, not about what you were interested in.
Ladies in bunches always filled me with vague apprehension and a firm desire to be elsewhere, but this one was great aunt by courtesy.
Simply because we were licked a hundred years before we started is no reason for us not to try to win.
Just when I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore, I began to long for roses.
Aunt Alexandra fitted into the world of Maycomb like a hand into a glove, but never into the world of Jem and me.
He liked Maycomb, he was Maycomb County born and bred.
Well, the night of the play spelled double trouble.
And I am begging you, do something about Walter Cunningham.
That’s just His way of telling you everything’s okay. That’s our idea of Him, anyway.
Why reasonable people go stark raving mad when anything involving a Negro comes up, is something I don’t pretend to understand.
Don’t say hey, Miss Jean Louise. Hey’s vulgar.
There’s some folks who don’t eat like us, but you ain’t called on to contradict ’em at the table when they don’t. That boy is your comp’ny and if he wants to eat up the tablecloth you let him, you hear?
You just hold your head high and keep those fists down.
Are we poor, Atticus?
Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit ’em, but remember it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.
Why, I’ve no earthly idea. When I said you were runnin’ a fever it happened. You just get yourself to sleep, you’re gonna wake up in the morning and find that things are all right.
Scout, I’m beginning to think there’s just one kind of folks. Folks.
All men are created equal.
Courage is not a man with a gun in his hand. It’s knowing you’re licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what.
If you can learn a simple trick, Scout, you’ll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view.
Mockingbirds don’t do one thing except make music for us to enjoy.
You just hold your head high and keep those fists down. No matter what anybody says to you, don’t let ’em get your goat.
He was real nice. Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them.
There are just some kind of men who – who’re so busy worrying about the next world they’ve never learned to live in this one.
So it took an eight-year-old child to bring ’em to their senses…. That proves something – that a gang of wild animals can be stopped, simply because they’re still human.
You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.
I think there’s just one kind of folks. Folks.
I swear, Scout, sometimes you act so much like a girl it’s mortifyin’.
You always told me to judge a man by how he treats his underlings.
Courage is not a man with a gun in his hand.
I have no doubt that every one of you can do something.
I think there’s four kinds of folks in the world.
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