Цитаты из книги «Убить пересмешника», страница 65

“An’ they chased him ‘n’ never could catch him ‘cause they didn’t know what he looked like, an’ Atticus, when they finally saw him, why he hadn’t done any of those things... Atticus, he was real nice....”His hands were under my chin, pulling up the cover, tucking it around me.“Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them.”

Neighbors bring food with death and flowers with sickness and little things in between. Boo was our neighbor. He gave us two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of good-luck pennies, and our lives. But neighbors give in return. We never put back into the tree what we took out of it: we had given him nothing, and it made me sad.I turned to go home. Street lights winked down the street all the way to town. I had never seen our neighborhood from this angle. There were Miss Maudie’s, Miss Stephanie’s — there was our house, I could see the porch swing — Miss Rachel’s house was beyond us, plainly visible. I could even see Mrs. Dubose’s.I looked behind me. To the left of the brown door was a long shuttered window. I walked to it, stood in front of it, and turned around. In daylight, I thought, you could see to the postoffice corner.Daylight... in my mind, the night faded. It was daytime and the neighborhood was busy. Miss Stephanie Crawford crossed the street to tell the latest to Miss Rachel. Miss Maudie bent over her azaleas. It was summertime, and two children scampered down the sidewalk toward a man approaching in the distance. The man waved, and the children raced each other to him.It was still summertime, and the children came closer. A boy trudged down the sidewalk dragging a fishingpole behind him. A man stood waiting with his hands on his . Summertime, and his children played in the front yard with their friend, enacting a strange little drama of their own invention.It was fall, and his children fought on the sidewalk in front of Mrs. Dubose’s. The boy helped his sister to her feet, and they made their way home. Fall, and his children trotted to and fro around the corner, the day’s woes and triumphs on their faces. They stopped at an oak tree, delighted, puzzled, apprehensive.Winter, and his children shivered at the front gate, silhouetted against a blazing house. Winter, and a man walked into the street, dropped his glasses, and shot a dog.Summer, and he watched his children’s heart break. Autumn again, and Boo’s children needed him.Atticus was right. One time he said you never really know a man until you stand in his shoes and walk around in them. Just standing on the Radley porch was enough.

We had not seen Mrs. Dubose for over a month. She was never on the porch any more when we passed.“She’s dead, son,” said Atticus. “She died a few minutes ago.”“Oh,” said Jem. “Well.”“Well is right,” said Atticus. “She’s not suffering any more. She was sick for a long time. Son, didn’t you know what her fits were?”Jem shook his head.“Mrs. Dubose was a morphine addict,” said Atticus. “She took it as a pain-killer for years. The doctor put her on it. She’d have spent the rest of her life on it and died without so much agony, but she was too contrary—”“Sir?” said Jem.Atticus said, “Just before your escapade she called me to make her will. Dr. Reynolds told her she had only a few months left. Her business affairs were in perfect order but she said, ‘There’s still one thing out of order.’ ”“What was that?” Jem was perplexed.“She said she was going to leave this world beholden to nothing and nobody. Jem, when you’re sick as she was, it’s all right to take anything to make it easier, but it wasn’t all right for her. She said she meant to break herself of it before she died, and that’s what she did.”Jem said, “You mean that’s what her fits were?”“Yes, that’s what they were. Most of the time you were reading to her I doubt if she heard a word you said. Her whole mind and body were concentrated on that alarm clock. If you hadn’t fallen into her hands, I’d have made you go read to her anyway. It may have been some distraction. There was another reason—”“Did she die free?” asked Jem.“As the mountain air,” said Atticus. “She was conscious to the last, almost. Conscious,” he smiled, “and cantankerous. She still disapproved heartily of my doings, and said I’d probably spend the rest of my life bailing you out of jail. She had Jessie fix you this box—”Atticus reached down and picked up the candy box. He handed it to Jem.Jem opened the box. Inside, surrounded by wads of damp cotton, was a white, waxy, perfect camellia. It was a Snow-on-the-Mountain.Jem’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Old hell-devil, old hell-devil!” he screamed, flinging it down. “Why can’t she leave me alone?”In a flash Atticus was up and standing over him. Jem buried his face in Atticus’s shirt front. “Sh-h,” he said. “I think that was her way of telling you—everything’s all right now, Jem, everything’s all right. You know, she was a great lady.”“A lady?” Jem raised his head. His face was scarlet. “After all those things she said about you, a lady?”“She was. She had her own views about things, a lot different from mine, maybe . . . son, I told you that if you hadn’t lost your head I’d have made you go read to her. I wanted you to see something about her—I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do. Mrs. Dubose won, all ninety-eight pounds of her. According to her views, she died beholden to nothing and nobody. She was the bravest person I ever knew.”Jem picked up the candy box and threw it in the fire. He picked up the camellia, and when I went off to bed I saw him fingering the wide petals. Atticus was reading the paper.

“Scout,” said Atticus, “when summer comes you’ll have to keep your head about far worse things . . . it’s not fair for you and Jem, I know that, but sometimes we have to make the best of things, and the way we conduct ourselves when the chips are down—well, all I can say is, when you and Jem are grown, maybe you’ll look back on this with some compassion and some feeling that I didn’t let you down. This case, Tom Robinson’s case, is something that goes to the essence of a man’s conscience—Scout, I couldn’t go to church and worship God if I didn’t try to help that man.”“Atticus, you must be wrong. . . .”“How’s that?”“Well, most folks seem to think they’re right and you’re wrong. . . .”“They’re certainly entitled to think that, and they’re entitled to full respect for their opinions,” said Atticus, “but before I can live with other folks I’ve got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn’t abide by majority rule is a person’s conscience.”

"Он очень ловко разобрал и опять собрал часы, только одна пружинка и два крохотных колёсика не влезли обратно, но часы всё равно не шли."

Мужество - это когда заранее знаешь, что ты проиграл, и все-таки берешься за дело и наперекор всему на свете идешь до конца. Побеждаешь очень редко, но иногда все-таки побеждаешь.Есть у человека нечто такое, что не подчиняется большинству, - это его совесть.

Почти все люди хорошие, Глазастик, когда их в конце концов поймешь.Пересмешник - самая безобидная птица, он только поет нам на радость. Пересмешники не клюют ягоды в саду, не гнездятся в овинах, они только и делают, что поют для нас свои песни. Вот поэтому убить пересмешника - грех.Если ты человек вежливый, говори с другими не про то, что интересно тебе, а про то, что интересно им.

Чтобы я мог жить в мире с людьми, я прежде всего должен жить в мире с самим собой.В суде, более чем где бы то ни было, с человеком должны поступать по справедливости, какого бы цвета ни была его кожа, но люди ухитряются приносить с собой на скамью присяжных все свои предрассудки.

It was a happy cemetery.

"Нельзя по-настоящему понять человека, пока не станешь на его точку зрения…

– Это как?

– Надо влезть в его шкуру и походить в ней. ""...бывают люди, в руках у которых библия опаснее, чем... чем бутылка виски в руках твоего отца. ""Когда ребенок о чем-нибудь спрашивает, Джек, ради всего святого, не увиливай, а отвечай. И не заговаривай зубы. Дети есть дети, но они замечают увертки не хуже взрослых, и всякая увертка только сбивает их с толку.""Все дети в известном возрасте начинают ругаться, а когда поймут, что бранью никого не удивишь, это проходит само собой. ""...если кто-то называет тебя словом, которое ему кажется бранным, это вовсе не оскорбление. Это не обидно, а только показывает, какой этот человек жалкий. ""...чтобы я мог жить в мире с людьми, я прежде всего должен жить в мире с самим собой.""Мужество – это когда заранее знаешь, что ты проиграл, и все-таки берешься за дело и наперекор всему на свете идешь до конца. Побеждаешь очень редко, но иногда все-таки побеждаешь. ""Ничего нет хорошего, когда приходится кого-то ненавидеть.""Почти все люди хорошие, Глазастик, когда их в конце концов поймешь. "

– Она умерла, сын, - сказал Аттикус. - Только что.– А… - сказал Джим. - Хорошо.

Я хотів, щоб ти побачив в ній дещо, хотів, щоб ти побачив справжню мужність, зрозумів, що мужність - це не чоловік зі зброєю в руках. Мужність - це коли знаєш, що програв свою справу, ще не розпочавши, але все одно берешся до неї.

Для мене не має нічого мерзеннішого, ніж коли ница біла людина наживається на неуцтві негрів.