Ring the bells that still can ring, Forget your perfect offering, There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.
Who hurt you once / so far beyond repair / that you would greet each overture / with curling lip? It was, Constance realized as the evening ground
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.
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.”
It might appear trivial, but Gamache knew that this was where so much was learned. Trust and teamwork. When to pass, when to advance and when to retreat. And to never lose sight of the goal, no matter the chaos and distractions around you.
What was worse, Myrna wondered. To be locked in, or locked out?