Quotes About Routine

x. IT WAS EIGHT-THIRTY IN the morning by the time I got to storage, with a sore jaw from grinding

When we are sad...it can be comforting to cling to familiar objects, to things that don't change.

hard to believe that the world had ended and yet somehow these ridiculous activities kept grinding on.

consumed by a more general sense of dread, of imprisonment within the dreary round of school and home: circumstances

Yet, however dissimilar their upbringings, books became for both Lincoln and Roosevelt "the greatest of companions." Every day for the rest of their lives, both men set aside time for reading, snatching moments while waiting for meals, between visitors, or lying in bed before sleep.

The habit of mobility had become ingrained.

I find that without a place to work, it is difficult to work. I look forward with the greatest pleasure to the use of my books at night at home.

She had taken a degree in Domestic Science in a college in northern England, and used notebooks from her class to order the household's meals. Sunday: roast beef. Monday: collops with sippets of toast (mince). Tuesday: beef stew. Wednesday: brawn. Thursday: steak and kidney pie. Friday: stewed oxheart. Saturday: tripe and onions. To be a white housewife was hardly arduous.

I passed whole portions of my life—days, months, years—in pure directed progress, getting up every morning and setting to work, working so hard and so continually that I avoided examining in any way what I knew about my life. Busywork became a trance state. I ignored who I really was and how I became that person, continued in that daily progress, became an automaton who was what she did.

He finished his drink. 'I don't like mornings either,' he said. "That's why I'm a writer.

Habits are the ruin of ambition, of initiative, of imagination.

I do admire efficiency,' said Marthe. 'But how tedious it can be in excess.

And by the way, my dear,' he said, 'you might just mention to Mrs. Sutton that if she must read the morning paper before I come down, I should be obliged if she would fold it neatly afterwards.' 'What an old fuss-box you are, darling,' said his wife. Mr. Mummery sighed. He could not explain that it was somehow important that the morning paper should come to him fresh and prim, like a virgin. Women did not feel these things. (Suspicion)

Five minutes' practice before the glass every day, and you will soon acquire that vacant look so desirable for all rogues, detectives and Government officials.

The patient was able to get about, visit acquaintances, do light work about the house, flowers and knitting and reading and so on, and to drive about the place—in fact, most of the things that old ladies do occupy their time with.

How do people go to sleep? I'm afraid I've lost the knack.

A good detective not only has to be intelligent, persevering and prepared to do enless boring routine work, he also needs one other quality: Intuition. I see it rather as the ability to make connections which are there but are not immediately apparent. Subterranean connections.

For disappearing acts, it's hard to beat what happens to the eight hours supposedly left after eight of sleep and eight of work.

Here's an interesting little notion. Did you realize that most people's lives are governed by telephone numbers?

You come to me for advice, but you can't cope with anything you don't recognize. Hmmm. So we'll have to tell you something you already know but make it sound like news, eh? Well, business as usual, I suppose.

He almost danced to the fridge, found the three least hairy things in it, put them on a plate and watched them intently for two minutes. Since they made no attempt to move within that time he called them breakfast and ate them.

the trivial inevitabilities of life, but there were others.

Gordon'un suçluluk duyman?z için kullanabileceÄŸi, dünyan?n en zengin, doÄŸal ve manevi bask? kaynaklar?na sahip olduÄŸu ve her sabah bunun tonlarcas?n? taze taze kap?n?z?n önüne dökebileceÄŸi çok bilinen bir ÅŸeydi...

This must be Thursday,' said Arthur to himself, sinking low over his beer, 'I never could get the hang of Thursdays.