Quotes by Harper Lee

It was a place where, if troubles did not vanish, they were made bearable.

Atticus, you must be wrong. Hows that? Well, most folks seem to think theyre right and youre wrong. . . Theyre certainly entitled to think that, and theyre entitled to full respect for their opinions, said Atticus, but before I can live with other folks Ive got to live with myself. The one thing that doesnt abide by majority rule is a persons conscience.

I do wish this time youd try to dress better while youre home. Folks in town get the wrong impression of you. They think you are--ah--slumming.

Dill said striking a match under a turtle was hateful.Aint hateful, just persuades him- s not like youd chunk him in the fire, Jem growled.How do you know a match dont hurt him?Turtles cant feel , stupid, said Jem.Were you ever a turtle, huh?

When Henry handed her a cup of punch she whispered, If you want to go on with the seniors or anything Ill be alright.Henry smiled at her. Youre my date, Scout.

We saw Uncle Jack every Christmas, and every Christmas he yelled across the street for Miss Maudie to come marry him. Miss Mauide would yell back, Call a little louder, Jack Finch, and theyll hear you the post office, I havent heard you yet! Jem and I thought this a strange way to ask for a ladys hand in marriage, but then again Uncle Jack was rather strange.

The one place where a man ought to get a square deal is in a court-room, be heany colour of the rainbow, but people have way to carrying their resentments right into a jury box.

The one place where a man ought to get a square deal is in a court-room, be he any colour of the rainbow, but people have way of carrying their resentments right into a jury box.

The one place where a man ought to get a square deal is in a court-room, be he any colour of the rainbow, but people have way to carrying their resentments right into a jury box.

(...) when a mans looking down the double barrel of a shotgun, he picks up the first weapon he can find to defend himself, be it a stone or a stick of stove wood or a citizens council.

I wonder how much of the day I spend just callin after you.

Its not time to worry yet

It aint time to worry yet. Ill let you know when.

I wanted you see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand.

Miss Gates is a nice lady, aint she?Why sure, said Jem. I liked her when I was in her room.She hates Hitler a lot . . .Whats wrong with that?Well, she went on today about how bad it was him treating the Jews like that. Jem, its not right to persecute anybody, is it? I mean have mean thoughts about anybody, even, is it?Gracious no, Scout. Whats eatin you?Well, coming out of the courthouse that night Miss Gates was--- she was going down the steps in front of us, you musta not seen her--- she was talking with Miss Stephanie Crawford. I heard her say its time somebody time somebody taught em a lesson, they were gettin way above themelves, an the next thing they think they can do is marry us. Jem, how can you hate Hitler so bad an then turn around and be ugly about folks right at home---

But in the absence of eye-witness theres always a doubt, sometimes only the shadow of a doubt. The law says reasonable doubt, but I think a defendants entitled to the shadow of doubt. Theres always the possibility, no matter how improbable, that hes innocent.

I was more at home in my fathers world. People like Mr. Heck Tate did not trap you with innocent questions to make fun of you; even Jem was not highly critical unless you said something stupid. Ladies seemed to live in faint horror of men, seemed unwilling to approve wholeheartedly of them. But I liked them. There was something about them, no matter how much they cussed and drank and gambled and chewed; no matter how undelectable they were, there was something about them that I instinctively liked... they werent—Hypocrites, Mrs. Perkins, born hypocrites, Mrs. Merriweather was saying.

You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view.

I mean it takes a certain kind of maturity to live in the South these days.

Maycomb was a tired old town, even in 1932 when I first knew it. Somehow, it was hotter then. Mens stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning. Ladies bathed before noon after their three oclock naps. And by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frosting from sweating and sweet talcum. The day was twenty-four hours long, but it seemed longer. Theres no hurry, for theres nowhere to go and nothing to buy...and no money to buy it with.