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Mr. Underwood simply figureed it was a sin to cripples, be they standing, sitting, or escaping.. He likened Tom's to senseless slaughter of songbirds by hunters and children,. Senseless killing- Tom had been given due process of law to the day of his death; he had been tried oplenly and conviicted by twelve good men and true; my father had fought for him all the way. Then Mr. Underwood's meaning became clear: Atticus had used every tool available to free men to save Tom Robinson, but in the secret courts of men's hearts Atticus had no case. Tom was a dead man the minute Mayella Ewell opened her mouth and screamed.
Jeremy Atticus Finch, Jean Louise Finch
To Kill A Mockingbird, a novel about racial prejudice in the American South, was written by American writer Harper Lee and published 1960. It was her only novel and it won the Pulitzer Prize. Harper Lee was born April 28, 1926.
Overing coming my morphine addict was the hardest I ever had to do.
Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird.
Attitus Finch to daughter Scout, Chapter 10.
You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view--until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.
Atticus Finch to daughter Scout, Chapter 3.
Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mockingbird.
Miss Maudie Atkinson to Scout, Chapter 10.
Maycomb was an old town, but it was a tired old town when I first knew it. In rainy weather the streets turned to red slop; grass grew on sidewalks, the courthouse sagged in the square. Somehow, it was hotter then: a black dog suffered on a summer's day; bony mules hitched to Hoover carts flicked flies in the sweltering shade of the live oaks on the square. Men's stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning. Ladies bathed before noon, after their three-o'clock naps, and by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frostings of sweat and sweet talcum.
Scout (Jean Louise Finch) the narrator, Chapter 1.
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very nice! i'll read this book one day...