How the Light Gets In (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache, #9)

by Louise Penny

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.

Corruption and brutality are 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.”

But, 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.”

He’d considered what would happen if he did. What would happen if he didn’t. What was the best he could expect? What was the worst? And, finally, what was the alternative? What choice did he have? And when he’d answered those questions, and made up his mind, Chief Inspector Gamache didn’t hesitate.

The tiny conflict. Between what was said and what was done. Between the tone and the words.