566 Quotes by Louise Penny

Time, it covered over everything eventually. Events, people, memory. Chiniquy had disappeared beneath Time.

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.

They’d crossed over to that continent where grieving parents lived. It looked the same as the rest of the world, but wasn’t. Colors bled pale. Music was just notes. Books no longer transported or comforted, not fully. Never again. Food was nutrition, little more. Breaths were sighs. And they knew something the rest didn’t. They knew how lucky the rest of the world was.

The glass was old. Leaded. Imperfect. And it was the imperfections that were creating the play of light.

Love and worry. They went hand in hand. Fellow travelers.

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.

That was why she was happy. He now knew that happiness and kindness went together. There was not one without the other.

You weren’t lost. You were exploring. There’s a difference.

Gamache nodded. It was what made his job so fascinating, and so difficult. How the same person could be both kind and cruel, compassionate and wretched. Unraveling a murder was more about getting to know the people than the evidence. People who were contrary and contradictory, and who often didn’t even know themselves.