Quotes About Compassion

She'd forgotten to love, but she also forgot to hate. (about Clara's mother, who had dementia)

The reason Armand Gamache could go there was because it wasn't totally foreign to him. He knew it because he'd seen his own burned terrain, he'd walked off the familiar and comfortable path inside his own head and heart and seen what festered in the dark. And one day Jean Guy Beauvoir would look at his own monsters, and then be able to recognize others. And maybe this was the day and this was the case. He hoped so.

That was why she was happy. He now knew that happiness ad kindness went together. There was not one without the other. For Jean-Guy it was a struggle. For Annie it seemed natural.

If kind acts could protect us from tragedy, thought Lacoste, the world would be a kinder place.

Less a hunter than an explorer, Armand Gamache delved into what people thought, but mostly how they felt. Because that was where actions were conceived. Noble acts. And acts of the greatest cruelty.

Hurt feelings," said Lacoste. "I'd rather have a bruise any day.

very rich indeed, rich in the things that matter. In friendships and laughter, in kindness and company.

Being with Ken was like being with a permanently foreign friend. It was impossible to understand them, but all you really needed to do was reflect back their own expressions. When Ken looked sad, they looked sad. When he looked happy, they smiled. It was actually very relaxing to be around him. Not much was expected.

The memory of the heart was far stronger than whatever was kept in the mind. The question was, what did people keep in their heart?

You are a man with a protective instinct. To care that deeply is a blessing. But like most blessings, it can also be a curse.

Far greater than Gamache's anger was his caring.

But he'd come to agree with Sister Prejean that no one was as bad as the worst thing they'd done. Armand Gamache had seen the worst. But he'd also seen the best. Often in the same person.

ahead. But at his core he believed the world a lovely place. And his

For Armand Gamache knew what not-nice was. He knew what cruelty, despair, horror were. And he knew what a forgotten, and precious quality 'nice'was.

But he'd come to agree with Sister Prejean that no one was as bad as the worst thing they'd done.

was always human and never pleasant and often misleading. Aid workers, when handing out food to starving people, quickly learn that the people fighting for it at the front are the people who need it least. It's the people sitting quietly at the back, too weak to fight, who need it the most. And so too with tragedy. The people who don't insist on their sorrow can often be the ones who feel it most strongly.

Myrna understood how damaging it was to compare pain. To dismiss hurt just because it wasn't the worst.

Myrna...prayed God wasn't one of of the men or women she'd betrayed by signing their release. Myrna's weight wasn't all carried around her middle.

But Isabelle Lacoste had been in the Sûreté long enough to know how much easier it was to shoot than to talk. How much easier it was to shout than to be reasonable. How much easier it was to humiliate and demean and misuse authority than to be dignified and courteous, even to those who were themselves none of those things. How much more courage it took to be kind than to be cruel.

They are four sentences we learn to say, and mean.' Gamache held up his hand as a fist and raised a finger with each point. 'I don't know. I need help. I'm sorry. And one other.' Gamache thought for a moment but couldn't bring it to mind. 'I forget. But we'll talk more about it tonight, right?

Clara tried to give the eulogy, but couldn't speak. Her words stuck at the lump in her throat. And so Myrna took over, holding her hand while Clara stood beside her.

No learning curve at all, marveled Gamache. But he realized Henri already knew all he'd ever need. He knew he was loved. And he knew how to love.

Some so weighty we carry them our whole lives. They can blight our very existence, or they can make us stronger. They can make us bitter or teach us compassion. They can drive us to do things we never thought ourselves capable of. Wonderful achievements, like becoming Chief Inspector and Commander. Or horrific things. Terrible dark deeds.

the wiry, self-contained man had stared at him for a few seconds then invited him to sit and told him 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.