Quotes About Comfort

But she could no longer say she believed in God and act otherwise. She did believe in God. And she believed that Jane was with him. And suddenly her pain and grief became human and natural. And survivable. She had a place to put it, a place where Jane was with God.

was read at the end of the ceremony. Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other," Gamache quoted. Now you will feel no cold For each of you will be warmth for the other Now there is no loneliness for you Now there is no more loneliness Now there is no more loneliness.

Gamache bit into a grilled chicken and roasted vegetable baguette and decided he was going to enjoy mealtimes in this place.

There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole".

They settled, just for one blessed instant, on a place that held love, not loss.

Maybe, said his brain and his upbringing, if you make enough tea and small talk, time reverses and all bad things are undone.

my beliefs comfort, they don't kill.

I just sit where I'm put, composed of stone and wishful thinking: That the deity that kills for pleasure will also heal, That in the midst of your nightmare, the final one, a kind lion will come with bandages in her mouth And lick you clean of fever, And pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neck, And caress you into darkness and paradise.

Now all I really crave is a good bowel movement.

Living in the wreckage of her future sure took the joy out of the present. The only comfort was that almost none of her fears had come true.

There were few things more soothing, Jean-Guy thought, than hearing people you love talking softly in another room.

Between them on the table sat a basket of steaming rolls and a small dish of butter balls.

All shall be well. And all shall be well. And all manner of thing shall be well. It was a quote from one of Gamache's favorite writers, the Christian mystic Julian of Norwich.

That in the midst of your nightmare, the final one, a kind lion will pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neck, Home. Home. He wanted to go home. And sit by the fire. And listen to their friends talking and laughing. To hold Reine-Marie's hand and watch their grandchildren play. And caress you into darkness and paradise.

She put another small log on the fire and listened to the quiet murmur of Peter and Ben. She couldn't make out the words, just the familiarity. Another wave of sadness enveloped her. She'd lost her murmuring partner. The one with whom she made comforting noises.

smelt what I took to be cleaning fluid. It was that comforting smell that means everything's clean and cared for. I figured Nellie had cleaned. Later

I know, I know, I know she's with God," said Robert. "I know she's at peace. But oh God, oh God.

She had a face, a body, made not for a Paris runway but for good meals and books by the fire and laughter. She was constructed from, and for, happiness.

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.

Its okay I'm wearing really big knickers.

I put my arm around her and said, "Jas, I have found that when you are troubled, it is often better to think of others rather than yourself. I think you would feel much better if you got me some milky coffee and jammy dodgers and I told you all about me.

This soft grass suggests 'softness' to me, but also at the same time 'lying-down-ness'.

The Art of Coorie shows it is possible to be sumptuous and simple at the same time.

Home is where my horse is.