Quotes from Louise Penny

than men, that's all I figured it was.' 'How'd you

Não é dos outros, caro Brutos, a culpa, mas de nós mesmos, se nos rebaixamos ao papel de instrumentos» - in Julio Cesar de William Shakespeare

My father taught me poetry. We'd go for long walks through Outremont and onto Mont Royal, and he'd recite poetry. I'd repeat it. Not well, most of the words meant nothing to me, but I remembered it all, every word. Only later did I realize what it meant." "And what did it mean?" "It meant the world," said Gamache. "My father died when I was nine.

the world is a cruel place, but it's also filled with more goodness than we ever realized. And you know what? Kindness beats cruelty. In the long run. It really does. Believe me.

Things were not as they seemed. The known world was shifting, reforming. Everything he'd taken as a given, a fact, as real and unquestioned, had fallen away. But

All the answers that sprang to mind were true, but there were levels to the truth.

And he remembered hugging Sonny to him a few months later when the vet came to put him to sleep. And he remembered saying soothing things into the stinky old ears and looking into the weepy brown eyes as they closed, with one final soft thump of the ragged, beloved, tail. And as he felt the final beat of Sonny's heart Gamache had had the impression it wasn't that his old heart had stopped but that Sonny had finally given it all away.

where else would you find darkness but right up against the light? What greater triumph for evil than to ruin a garden?

Well, take this then. Ruth had written. Have some more body. Drink and eat. You'll just make yourself sick. Sicker. You won't be cured.

We're all blessed and we're all blighted, Chief Inspector," said Finney. "Every day each of us does our sums. The question is, what do we count?

Phones were held high, recording the event. To be shown later to friends and relatives who hoped the dinner was delicious enough to warrant having to watch.

the Agitation.

She shifted her seat and shoved the thought aside. After spending most of her life scanning the horizon for slights and threats, genuine and imagined, she knew the real threat to her happiness came not from the dot in the distance, but from looking for it. Expecting it. Waiting for it. And in some cases, creating it. Her father had jokingly accused her of living in the wreckage of her future. Until one day she'd looked deep into his eyes and saw he wasn't joking.

Armand Gamache had another skill that Brébeuf didn't seem to possess. He could disappear, when he chose. And it appeared he chose to disappear at that moment. Armand Gamache sat quietly. Almost a hole in the room.

It would have blown the whole grid.

Her voice changed slightly as she remembered, "But most he loved a happy human face.

The forensics officer bagged both brushes. For DNA testing.

There've been times I've been mad enough to kill, and may have, had I known I would get away with it.' 'What made you that angry?' Clara was astonished. 'Betrayal, always and only betrayal.

He only stopped when he'd met himself again. The Armand who'd been standing on the side of the quiet road, in the middle of nowhere, waiting. At the intersection of truth and wishful thinking. Where the straight road splayed. And he knew then. They were all going down." p.40

Armand wondered if Florence understood that line from The Little Prince. He hadn't, as a child. It was only as he got older that he knew it to be true.

A bare bulb swished from side to side. Dust floated in what little light it threw and cobwebs hung from the rafters. It smelled of spiders.

Had CC de Poitiers known she was going to be murdered she might have bought her husband, Richard, a Christmas gift.

And you married his wife." Gamache wanted it to sound neutral. Not an accusation. And it wasn't one, it was simply a question. But he also knew a guilty mind was a harsh filter, and heard things unintended

Gamache wondered how low the bar was set when all a man had to do to attract a woman was not smell of decomposing bears.