“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.” Grief Author:Louise Penny
“Gamache could almost see the inevitable horsemen on the hill, above Hazel, snorting and pounding the ground, straining to be released. They brought the end of everything Hazel knew, all that was familiar and predictable. This contained woman was courageously holding off the marauding army of grief, but soon it would break free and sweep down and over her, and nothing familiar would be left standing.” LossGrief Book:The Cruelest Month Source: The Cruelest Month
“Every now and then, he pulled the books out and touched the bookmarks but hadn't yet found the strength to pick up where they left off, to read the rest of the story.” GriefBooksGamacheLouise PennyHow The Light Gets InBookmark Book:How the Light Gets In Source: How the Light Gets In
“Peter kept filling his wine glass, and Clara prattled on about getting the garden ready. That was the beauty of friends, she knew. Nothing was expected of Monsieur Béliveau, and he knew it. Sometimes it's just nice not to be alone.... On the veranda Clara and Peter had hugged him but offered no easy words of comfort. To do that would be to simply comfort themselves. What Monsieur Béliveau needed was to feel bad. And then he'd feel better.” FriendshipGrief Book:The Cruelest Month Source: The Cruelest Month
