Quotes from Louise Penny

Come hither, all ye empty things,/Ye bubbles raised by breath of kings;/Who float upon the tide of state,/Come hither, and behold your fate.

Much missed by… Why were there no words that felt? Words that when you touched them you'd feel what was intended? The chasm left by the loss of Madeleine? The lump in the throat that fizzed and ached. The terror of falling asleep knowing that on waking she'd relive the loss, like Prometheus bound and tormented each day. Everything had changed. Even her grammar. Suddenly she lived in the past tense. And the singular.

Conscience. ... Which is why, Gamache knew, it was vital to be aware of actions in the present. Because the present became the past, and the past grew. And got up, and followed you. And found you ... Who wouldn't be afraid of this?" ? Louise Penny, The Brutal Telling

I just sit where I'm put, composed of stone and wishful thinking: That the deity that kills for pleasure will also heal, He could, even now, from what felt like an impossible distance, see through the mullioned windows of the bistro to the thick forests, and the leaves that would already be changing. As everything eventually did.

A peace above all earthly dignities," she quoted. Then turned back to the room. "A still and quiet conscience.

They looked at each other, and then, in unison, all three said, "Tell me what you know.

There is always another story / There is more than meets the eye.

Imagine a world where you could do anything. Anything. And get away with it,' said Myrna, warming to the topic again. 'What power. Who here wouldn't be corrupted?

He searched her face, his icy-blue eyes keen and cold. She knew she should hold him, should tell him how much she loved him and trusted him and needed him. But something held her back. There it was again. A silence between them. Something else unsaid. Is this how it starts? Clara wondered. Those chasms between couples, filled not with comfort and familiarity, but with too much unsaid, and too much said.

Are we really growing more civilised? More tolerant? Less violent? If things had changed, you wouldn't be here.

All shall be well. And all shall be well. And all manner of thing shall be well. It was a quote from one of Gamache's favorite writers, the Christian mystic Julian of Norwich.

That in the midst of your nightmare, the final one, a kind lion will pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neck, Home. Home. He wanted to go home. And sit by the fire. And listen to their friends talking and laughing. To hold Reine-Marie's hand and watch their grandchildren play. And caress you into darkness and paradise.

Enid, his ex-wife, had also listened. But there was always an edge of desperation about it, a demand. As though he owed her. As though she was dying and he was the medicine.

The Chief Inspector wondered whether a coat of paint and new appliances could exorcise demons, and whether the Catholic Church knew about that.

There were Romulus and Remus. They were saved by a she-wolf. Suckled. But that was Roman mythology, not the bible. Wolves.

También si todo aquello desaparecería con el tiempo. Si la voz se apagaría y los rasgos se desdibujarían. Si los recuerdos se desvanecerían y ocuparían su lugar en el olvido junto a otros acontecimientos del pasado, igual de agradables pero neutros. Avec le temps. ¿Es que con el paso del tiempo amamos menos?

Anything different, anything you don't understand, you immediately believe is threatening.

I'm sorry. I was wrong. I need help. I don't know. He'd

Did you ever suspect us?' Gamache looked at the two men, one huge and buoyant, the other slim and self-contained. 'No. I think you've both been hurt too much in your lives by the cruelty of others to ever be cruel yourselves. In my experience people who have been hurt either pass it on and become abusive themselves or they develop a great kindness. You're not the types to do murder. I wish I could say the same for everyone here.

The funny thing about murder is that the act is often committed decades before the actual action.

Cézanne. Riopelle and Lemieux. Kenojuak Ashevak.

Your beliefs become your thoughts Your thoughts become your words Your words become your actions Your actions become your destiny. Mahatma Gandhi,

the four sentences that lead to wisdom. He'd said them only once, never repeating them. But once had been enough for Gamache. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I need help. I don't know.

She put another small log on the fire and listened to the quiet murmur of Peter and Ben. She couldn't make out the words, just the familiarity. Another wave of sadness enveloped her. She'd lost her murmuring partner. The one with whom she made comforting noises.