Quotes About Courage

But he knew he needn't worry. This man was afraid of nothing. "I count my blessings." He turned and saw Irene on the terrasse, as though he'd sensed her there. "We're all blessed and we're all blighted, Chief Inspector," said Finney. "Every day each of us does our sums. The question is, what do we count?" The old man brought his hand to his head and removed his hat, offering it to Gamache.

We were both wrong. You were afraid to stop and I was afraid to go." "You think we'll have less fear tomorrow?" he asked. "Not less fear," she said. "But perhaps more courage.

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.

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. Who'd offered hope in a time of great suffering.

Gamache was the best of them, the smartest and bravest and strongest because he was willing to go into his own head alone, and open all the doors there, and enter all the dark rooms. And make friends with what he found there. And he went into the dark, hidden rooms in the minds of others. The minds of killers. And he faced down whatever monsters came at him. He went to places Beauvoir had never even dreamed existed.

Don't get me wrong, I 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.

No," said Armand. "The outside won't change, but the inside might. We can but hope." "We can do more than that, Chief Inspector, if we choose. Hope on its own is rarely enough.

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.

Fear lives in the head. And courage lives in the heart. The job is to get from one

What's the use of healing, if the life that's saved is callow and selfish and ruled by fear? There's a difference between being in sanctuary and being in hiding." "So you have to leave sanctuary in order to have it?" she asked.

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.

He sounded more confident than he really was. But Chief Superintendent Gamache understood that a leader could not afford to reveal his own emotions. He couldn't demand courage in others while quaking in fear himself.

Strong enough to grieve.

It was messy. Unruly. Risky. Scary. So much could go wrong. Failure was always close at hand. But so was brilliance.

Le beau risque. The great risk. The beautiful risk. To climb out of the hole and start again.

By offering a second chance. One last chance. Don't get me wrong, I 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.

Was the final fear that, in losing his fears, he would also lose his joy?

But, like peace, comfort didn't come from hiding away or running away. Comfort first demanded courage

You'd hide behind a seventy-three-year-old woman? Are you that much of a coward?

Louise Penny

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.

Because you can't be brave if you're not afraid.

patrons. Courage must always be rewarded. The other thing Jacques remembered was looking down the long corridor as Monsieur Horowitz paused at the mosaic in the tile floor by the entrance to the Hôtel Lutetia. It was the symbol of the hotel, and also the ancient symbol of Paris. The city had originally been called Lutetia. And her emblem was a ship in peril on a stormy sea. That symbol was imbedded in the hotel floor.

Fluctuat nec mergitur." Every schoolchild in Paris learned those words. It was the motto of the ancient settlement of Lutetia. And of Paris.