Quotes About Mundane

Macabéa had a passion for horror films and musicals. She especially liked films where the women were hanged or shot through the heart with a bullet. It never dawned on her that she herself was a suicide case even though she had never contemplated killing herself. Her life was duller than plain bread and butter.

Because the trivial concerns oneself, one fails to see it might be boring.

The sky looks comfortingly mundane compared to the garish kaleidoscope of the stained glass. It makes Rose yearn to be reliving any one of a thousand ordinary days spent with her ordinary older sister, who has now done this extraordinary thing and died.

Before I found out for myself, I might have imagined that in the aftermath of personal apocalypse, the little bothers of life would effectively vanish. But it's not true. You still feel chills, you still despair when a package is lost in the mail, and you still feel irked to discover you were shortchanged at Starbucks.

And every one of these days, from dawn to dusk, has been more or less the same. Far from grand but not too horrible, either, like a pebble underneath your sock that's not quite large enough to bother removing.

Even in an organization that's doing something big and bold, there's the mundane, day-to-day execution work of keeping it going. But people need to stay connected to the boldness, to the vision, and stay plugged in to the main vein of the dream.

When you say 'failure,' that seems really dramatic, but a lot of failure is just really depressing and mundane. I remember the first time I ever played a concert in Italy. I played a venue that held 900 people, and I think five people showed up. It wasn't a big, 'John Carter of Mars' type failure. It wasn't dramatic; it was just depressing.

little too undistinguished, a little

What lingered after them was not life, which always overcomes natural death, but the most trivial list of mundane facts: a clock ticking on a wall, a room dim at noon, and the outrageousness of a human being thinking only of herself.

I don't know how it is, but I am so tired of commonplace happiness and commonplace goals.

We live in a world of banal miracles.

I work. I have a life. There's not much to tell.

I don't lead a particularly exciting life away from work.

I prize being just a normal dude that wakes up, goes to work, comes home to his wife - like, quite boring.

I love to do subjects that are very common, relatable.

We tend to underestimate the power of banality.

Good tradecraft keeps espionage routine and boring.

But many details were considered too small and mundane for the Centurions' purposes. They tapped the mud too briefly for things like new-fangled coffee-makers to matter. Instant coffee that tasted like a wet dream was apparently one of them.

In fiction, beauty was run-of-the-mill.

For me, beauty is synonymous with uniqueness . . . perfection is mundane, boring, and emotionless. It is by celebrating the differences in others that we can begin to accept our own individuality.

Your non attachment to the mundane is your charm. Your attachment to the divine is your beauty.

He must be a grown man, stolid, reliably fulfilling his duties, married perhaps, someone's breadwinner - in other words, one of the living dead.

Another writer once asked me why I wrote about "nebbishes." I told him I wanted to write about "the common man.") Sometimes I even

In the cramped environment of little houses, with the car parked under the kitchen window, clothes hanging in the yard, countless skimpy errands keeping her involved until nothing else is left, only a preoccupation with things to get done, things to have ready