To Be Honest, The Only Thing I

Her Voice Was Slightly Accented But Her French Was Perfect. Someone Who'd Not Just Learned The Language But Loved It. And It Showed With Every Syllable. Gamache Knew It Was Impossible To Split Language From Culture. That Without One The Other Withered. To Love The Language Was To Respect The Culture.

What Haunted People Even, Perhaps Especially, On Their Deathbed? What Chased Them, Tortured Them And Brought Some Of Them To Their Knees? And [he] Thought He Had The Answer. Regret. Regret For Things Said, Things Done, And Things Not Done. Regret For The People They Might Have Been. And Failed To Be.

But You Want Murderous Feelings? Hang Around Librarians," Confided Gamache. "all That Silence. Gives Them Ideas.

A Good Novel Is A Good Novel, Pointe Finale. And I Think What I'm Writing Is Exactly That.

Don't Mistake Dramatics For A Conscience.