Foolish people are never harmless. Stupidity accounts for as many crimes as anger and greed.

Better to accept the wretched truth than struggle, twisting to make a wish a reality.

Or - perhaps - I should just worry about my own behavior and let others be who they are.

Don't mistake dramatics for a conscience.

Every year the hunters shot cows and horses and family pets and each other. And unbelievably, they sometimes shot themselves, perhaps in a psychotic episode where they mistook themselves for dinner

To be silent. In hopes of not offending, in hopes of being accepted. But what happened to people who never spoke, never raised their voices? Kept everything inside? Gamache knew what happened. Everything they swallowed, every word, thought, feeling rattled around inside, hollowing the person out. And into that chasm they stuffed their words, their rage.

It's a shame that creativity and sloth look exactly the same.