Quotes About Acceptance

After all, it's how the light gets in.

A loss like this was a progression of miseries, like stepping-stones. Until they reached the other side. The new continent. Where the terrible reality lived, and the sun never fully came out again. But where, with time and help, they might find acceptance and, with that, peace.

That's a huge one, of course. Most of us are great with change, as long as it was our idea. But change imposed from the outside can send some people into a tailspin. I think Brother Albert hit it on the head. Life is loss. But out of that, as the book stresses, comes freedom. If we can accept that nothing is permanent, and change is inevitable, if we can adapt, then we're going to be happier people.

Everything he let go of had claw marks on it.

FINE stands for Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Egotistical. I'm FINE.

Four days. And she had two gay sons, a large black mother, a demented poet for a friend and was considering getting a duck. It was not what she'd expected from this visit.

She did believe in God. And she believed that Jane was with him. And suddenly her pain and grief became human and natural. And survivable. She had a place to put it, a place where Jane was with God. It was such a relief. She looked

You have one hour to live. Who is it, exactly, you have needed all these years to forgive?" Myrna

Gamache had been to Three Pines on previous investigations and each time he'd had the feeling he belonged. It was a powerful feeling. After all, what else did people really want except to belong? He

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.

This used to be my drug of choice. In my teens my drug of choice was acceptance, in my twenties it was approval, in my thirties it was love, in my forties it was Scotch.

But being essentially a dumpster fire herself, she was familiar with flames.

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.

This village has known loss, people killed before their time, accidents, war, disease. Three Pines isn't immune to any of that. But you seem to accept it as part of life and not hang on to the bitterness.

The goal of any healthy society was to keep people safe to express sometimes unpopular views.

Jews, gypsies, gays. It became normal and acceptable. No one told them what was happening was wrong. In fact, just the opposite.

Have you noticed that more people seem to be dying than are being born? Bean asked, handing the section to Finney, who took it and nodded solemnly. "That means there's more for those of us still here." He handed the section back. "I don't want more," said Bean. "You will.

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

You can't get milk from a hardware store. So stop asking for something that can't be given. And look for what is offered. She saw the fork of food, and the thin lips that rarely smiled at them, blowing on it.

What're you going to focus on? What's unfair, or all the wonderful things that happen? Both are true, both are real. Both need to be accepted. But which carries more weight with you?" Stephen tapped the boy's chest. "The terrible or the wonderful? The goodness or the cruelty?

You can't get milk from a hardware store. So stop asking for something that can't be given. And look for what is offered.

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.

Armand Gamache wondered whether CC de Poitiers was at that very moment trying to explain herself to a perplexed God and two very angry seals.

You're wrong there,' said Ruth, following Myrna's gaze. 'This used to be my drug of choice. In my teens my drug of choice was acceptance, in my twenties it was approval, in my thirties it was love, in my forties it was Scotch. That lasted a while,' she admitted. 'Now all I really crave is a good bowel movement.