I just sit where I'm put, composedof stone and wishful thinking:that the deity who kills for pleasurewill also heal, that in the midst of your nightmare, the final one, a kind lionwill come with bandages in her mouthand the soft body of a woman, and lick you clean of fever, and pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neckand caress you into darkness and paradise. Louise Penny
I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.
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Pablo Neruda
It is strange how a scrap of poetry works in the mind and makes the legs move in time to it along the road.
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Virginia Woolf
Sweetest smile is made saddest tear-drop!
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Edwin Arnold
The true poem rests between the words.
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Vanna Bonta
Sometimes he did not know if he slept or just thought about sleep.
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Mark Strand
More Quotes By Louise Penny
People wandered in for books and conversation. They brought their stories to her, some bound, and some known by heart. She recognized some of the stories as real, and some as fiction. But she honored them all, though she didn't buy every one.
I was tired of seeing the Graces always depicted as beautiful young things. I think wisdom comes with age and life and pain. And knowing what matters.
Normally death came at night, taking a person in their sleep, stopping their heart or tickling them awake, leading them to the bathroom with a splitting headache before pouncing and flooding their brain with blood. It waits in alleys and metro stops. After the sun...
…and all the other tools that mistook information for knowledge
Clara shrugged and immediately knew her betrayal of Peter. In one easy movement she'd distanced herself from his bad behavior, even thought she herself was responsible for it. Just before everyone had arrived, she'd told Peter about her adventure with Gamache. Animated and excited she'd...
