Quotes from Louise Penny

On the way he stopped at Paillard, the marvelous bakery on rue St-Jean, and at a dépanneur for beer then headed up rue Ste-Ursule, pausing to check the address he'd been given, unconvinced he had it right. But no. There it was. 9¾ rue Ste-Ursule. He shook his head. 9¾.

English voice. Gamache strained but couldn't make out which boat it was, nor did he recognize the voice. It wasn't Tom Hancock. Nor did he think it was likely to be Ken Haslam. A telescope was available, and though it was all but frozen, as was he, Gamache put some money in and trained it on the river.

The truth is I don't know whether Fair Day is a brilliant example of naive art, or the pathetic scrawling of a superbly untalented, and delusional, old woman. That's the tension.

Fuckin' inconsiderate; excuse my english.

understand your doubts. They're what make you a great man, not your certainties.

She held Ruth's hand for the rest of the way, and wondered if maybe the key was not in being held, but in holding.

Like the rest of the Québécois? Like Beauvoir himself? Did they curse the Church? Câlice! Tabernac! Hostie! The Québécois had turned religious words into dirty words.

the line from Ruth's poem. Who hurt you once, so far beyond repair?

The two men emerged from the narrow street into the open square in front of Notre-Dame Basilica, weaving around tourists taking photographs of themselves in front of the cathedral. When looked at years from now, they'd see the magnificent structure, and a whole lot of sweaty people in shorts and sundresses wilting in the scorching heat as the sun throbbed down on the cobblestones.

Shalom aleichem.

I have seen flowers come in stony places, And kind things done by men with ugly faces,' Gamache said,

It had great joy and great sadness and the ability to accept both and be content.

When she first came to Three Pines, Myrna had wondered whether Ruth had had a stroke. Sometimes, Myrna knew from her practice, stroke victims had very little impulse control. When she asked about it, Clara said if Ruth had had a stroke it was in the womb. As far as she knew, Ruth had always been like this.

B'ezrat hashem,

near enemy. It's a psychological concept. Two emotions that look the same but are actually opposites. The one parades as the other, is mistaken for the other, but one is healthy and the other's sick, twisted.

Change the facts and you'll change the feelings.

No one could look at the beautiful young man now. They dropped their eyes from the scalding sight. From the eclipse. As all that love turned into hate.

Times change. You had to roll with it. But it was impossible to roll without getting bruised.

he knew most places felt just a little sad in spring, when the bright and playful snow had gone and the flowers and trees hadn't yet bloomed. The

Safe, thought Gamache. How primal that was, how powerful. What would people do to preserve a safe harbor? They'd do what they'd done for centuries. What the French had done to save Québec, what the English had done to take it. What countries do to protect their borders, what individuals do to protect their homes. They kill. To feel safe. It almost never worked.

That moment of horror had finally given the young gardener what she'd longed for. Company. Acceptance. It was too bad it came at such a cost, but then peace often did.

You and your team are the solution. You need to separate it out. You're catastrophizing, allowing fear into the driver's seat. You're reacting to things that haven't happened and behaving as though they have, or are inevitable. Focus on what is actually happening, here and now." "Surrender to reality,

It was really a meditation on what he'd learned watching these people. What he'd learned about them and the nature of humanity and what he'd learned about himself. It was a remarkable study of arrogance and humility and, above all, forgiveness.

And thought about tyranny, and murder. And whether it was ever right to kill one for the sake of the many.