Quotes from Louise Penny

Or worse, dwell in it. Take up residence in the tragedies, the pain. The hurt. To make a home in hell.

Long dead and buried in another town, my mother hasn't finished with me yet.

I just sit where I'm put, composed of stone and wishful thinking: That the deity that kills for pleasure will also heal, That in the midst of your nightmare, the final one, a kind lion will come with bandages in her mouth And lick you clean of fever, And pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neck, And caress you into darkness and paradise.

One of Gilbert's favorite quotes was from Henry David Thoreau. The question is not what you look at, but what you see.

She got quite upset and said that the night is a strawberry.

What Three Pines had wasn't immunity but a rare ability to heal.

here" was the garden of the Musée Rodin, in Paris,

Anyone could be clever. Anyone could be smart. Anyone could be taught. But not everyone was kind.

Olivier was holding a tray of mille feuilles, meringues, slices of pies and little custard tarts with glazed fruit on top. He chose one covered in tiny wild blueberries.

Came a time when people of conscience had to take a stand.

As a librarian and archivist herself, she knew that history wasn't just written by the victors. First it had to be erased and rewritten. Replacing troublesome truth with self-serving myth.

Peace is for people with a bank account.

When people are really depressed, they don't have the energy to kill themselves," said Myrna, who had once been a therapist in Montreal. "But as soon as they start feeling a little better, their energy comes back. They're still depressed, but now they can act.

propped up between her friends, as she realized she'd been all her life. Why had it taken until now to understand that?

Gracie might, or might not, be a dog. The smart money was now on guinea pig, with hedgehog a close second.

It was one of life's little mysteries that this woman she had absolutely no respect for, could lay her flat. She thought she'd been ready for it. She'd even dared to harbour a hope that maybe this time would be different. But of course it wasn't.

tongue-in-groove walls

one day Jean-Guy Beauvoir understood that when people died, they didn't go away. They were very much alive in the minds, in the hearts, in the vivid memories of those left behind. And they were not always easy to live with. Some ghosts had demands.

Actually, the real mystery is why more people don't commit murder. It must be terrible to be human.

You'd be surprised. Not everything buried is actually dead,

Sometimes the only way up is down.

Now all I really crave is a good bowel movement.

The Chief walked back to headquarters, taking his time. His gloved hands held each other behind his back. The sound of Christmas carols in his ears. And as he walked, he hummed. He'd done what he went there to do.

Everyone was getting married and it seemed like fun. I