Quotes from Louise Penny

What I was going to say is that my mentor had this theory that our lives are like an aboriginal longhouse. Just one huge room." He swept one arm out to illustrate scope. "He said that if we thought we could compartmentalize things, we were deluding ourselves. Everyone we meet, every word we speak, every action taken or not taken lives in our longhouse. With us. Always. Never to be expelled or locked away.

What killed people wasn't a bullet, a blade, a fist to the face. What killed people was a feeling. Left too long. Sometimes in the cold, frozen. Sometimes buried and fetid. And sometimes on the shores of a lake, isolated. Left to grow old, and odd.

Happiness as an act of defiance. A revolutionary act.

He had loads of colleagues, acquaintances, buddies. He was an emotional communist. Everyone counted equally, but none too much.

You know Gabri, he wears his heart on his sleeve.' In fact, there were times Olivier wondered whether Gabri hadn't been born inside out.

It's too easy to feed the anger. Too cowardly to stoke the hate. You must look inside yourself and decide who you are and who you want to be. Character is not created in times like these. It's revealed. This is a trying time. A testing time. Be careful." Chapter 14 · Page 122 · Location 2188

As a diversion, few things were as effective as chocolate cake.

Sounds like being a therapist. People normally came into my office because something happened. Someone had died, or betrayed them. Their love wasn't reciprocated. They'd lost a job. Gotten divorced. Something big. But the truth was, while that might've been the catalyst, the problem was almost always tiny and old and hidden.

And what else did you find?' 'God' he said simple. 'In a diner.' 'What was he eating?' The question was so unexpected Gamache hesitated then laughed. 'Lemon meringue pie.' 'And how do you know He was God?' ... 'I don't,' he admitted. 'He might have been just a fisherman. He was certainly dressed like one. But he looked across the room at me with such tenderness, such love, I was staggered...then he turned back to me with the most radiant smile I'd ever seen. I was filled with joy.

But you knew what would happen. Why would you choose to walk right into a situation where you know the person is going to be hurtful? It kills me to see you do that, and you do it all the time. It's like a form of insanity. - Peter Morrow You call it insanity, I call it optimism. - Clara Morrow

Gabri and Myrna were very rich indeed, rich in the things that matter. In friendships and laughter, in kindness and company. People rich in money might belong at the Inn and Spa, but those rich in other ways belonged in the tiny village of Three Pines. Here, kindness was the real currency.

What could be worse? Dying, and not being missed.

And while forgetting the past might condemn people to repeat it, remembering it too vividly condemned them to never leave.

No. It was almost impossible to electrocute someone these days, unless you were the governor of Texas.

As far as the official mapmakers were concerned Three Pines didn't exist. It had never been surveyed. Never plotted. No GPS or sat nav system, no matter how sophisticated, would ever find the little village. It only appeared as though by accident over the edge of the hill. Suddenly. It could not be found unless you were lost.

First you scare them, then you offer them your false hope. It's disgusting. But it works. And now the politicians, familiar with the power of fear, have bought your potion wholesale.

Are you enjoying your suffering? You must be, to hold on to it so tightly.

believe in using your head. But not in spending too much time in there. Fear lives in the head. And courage lives in the heart. The job is to get from one to the other.

Ring the bells that still can ring, Forget your perfect offering, There's a crack in everything, That's how the light gets in.' 'What an extraordinary poem. Ruth Zardo?' 'Leonard Cohen. Clara used it in her piece. She wrote it on the wall behind the three of you, like graffiti.

They were cunning,deceitful,arrogant and nearly incomprehensible,especially the Anglos. They were dangerous because they hid their thoughts,hid their feelings behind a smiling face. Who could tell what was really going on in their heads? They said one thing and thought another. Who knew what rancid thing lived ,curled up,in the space between words and thoughts.

He was very clever, he gave the impression of being tolerant and kind, while actually being very dark, very cunning.

the four sentences that lead to wisdom. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I need help. I don't know.

I'll pray that you grow up a brave man in a brave country," Clara said. "I will pray you find a way to be useful," Gamache completed the quote. Reine-Marie dropped her eyes to her hands and saw the paper napkin twisted and shredded there. Clara nodded slowly. "I think you might be right. Peter went to Paris not to find a new artistic voice. It was simpler than that. He wanted to find a way to be useful.

It was no use telling her he understood. Or that it was all right. She'd earned the right to no easy answer.