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“Corruption and brutality are
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modeled and expected and rewarded. It becomes normal. And anyone who stands up to it, who tells them it’s wrong, is beaten down. Or worse.”
“Matthew 10:36,” he’d said. “And a man’s foes shall be they of his own household.
A tall man and a small, round man. They looked like a broken exclamation mark.
he made a snowball and tossed it into the air, watching as Henri jumped, grabbed it, bit down and was, yet again, surprised when it disappeared in his mouth. 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.
“I think I’ve been afraid most of my life. Schoolyards, exams, dating. Medical school. Every time an ambulance rolled into my ER I was afraid I’d screw up and someone would die. I was afraid for my children, afraid for my wife. Afraid something would happen to them.”
Now he dropped his gaze to Gamache. “Yes,” said the Chief. “I know.” “Do you?” The two men held each other’s gaze, and Jérôme realized that the Chief knew something about fear. Not terror. Not panic. But he knew what it was to be afraid.
Then what? It was a good question, Gamache knew. And he didn’t like the answer. He knew, as a man used to fear, the great danger of letting it take control. It distorted reality. Consumed reality. Fear created its own reality.
He needed to keep his fear at bay. A little was good. Kept him sharp. But fear, unchecked, became terror and terror grew into panic and panic created chaos. And then all hell broke loose.
What he needed, what they all needed, and what they could only find here in Three Pines, was peace and peace of mind and the clarity that came with it.
like peace, comfort didn’t come from hiding away or running away. Comfort first demanded courage.
Our lives are like a house. Some people are allowed on the lawn, some onto the porch, some get into the vestibule or kitchen. The better friends are invited deeper into our home, into our living room.”
Armand Gamache had always held unfashionable beliefs. He believed that light would banish the shadows. That kindness was more powerful
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than cruelty, and that goodness existed, even in the most desperate places. He believed that evil had its limits.
Chief Inspector Gamache wondered if he could have been wrong all this time. Maybe the darkness sometimes won. Maybe evil had no limits.
cakes. They had everything. Except privacy and freedom. And that’s the problem with a gilded life. Nothing inside can thrive. Eventually what was once beautiful rots.”
