Quotes About Routine

I breakfast when I get up, lunch when I get the chance. If I never get it, I forget it. Sometimes I dine at seven, sometimes at midnight, sometimes not at all; and I never get to bed until four or five in the morning. Everything depends on the news; the hours make no difference to me.

I walk into the office at Southwark Bridge every morning, and I have no idea what's going to happen.

Some players have no idea how to handle life without structure. That's why some players get into trouble during the offseason. This is literally the first time in our lives we've ever had free time without somebody telling us where to be and what to do.

Each gig is brilliant and fun. When it becomes a routine, we'll take a break. There's no point in doing it if you don't enjoy it.

I got tired of soundchecks. At first it was important. But after a while, there was no point in me doing one.

But there's no problem to lift before the game in the morning, then play the game at night.

Have you ever noticed that the less interesting something is, the longer people want to talk about it?

These days, kids are scheduled from morning to night because parents have demanded it, and London has been no exception.

He worked out his frustration with life on the creek every morning.

Tuesday morning, and with all the new security, I had to leave

Usually he just went about his life, doing what needed to be done and figuring out ways to enjoy the rest of his time.

Choice is always performed against a background of habit.

I was impressed by people like Les who had the bravery to brush their teeth (before lunch, even!) at work, since the act was so powerfully unbusinesslike;

And though he knew it was only the whiskey talking, he also knew that the whiskey talked daily.

There was an awful lot to be said for familiarity, if you thought about it. It was an extremely underrated virtue, ignorable until the very moment that you were in danger of losing whatever or whoever it was that was familiar.

There was an awful lot to be said for familiarity, if you thought about it. It was an extremely underrated virtue, ignorable until the very moment that you were in danger of losing whatever or whoever it was that was familiar—a house, a view, a partner.

Jackie and Phil are the most boring people in the southeast of England, possibly because they've been married too long, and therefore have nothing to talk about, apart from how long they've been married. In the end, I am reduced to asking them, in a joking sort of way, for the secret of their success; I was only saving time, because I think they would have told me anyway.

Látod? Te nem lennél képes megváltoztatni mindent, ahogy Jackie. Túl sokszor megtörtént már mindkettÅ'nkkel; egyszer?en csak visszamegyünk a régi barátainkhoz és a régi kocsmákba, abba a régi életünkbe, amelyikben még nem ismertük egymást, és ennyi az egész. Senki még csak észre sem fog venni semmilyen változást, nem igaz?

Because it is so hard to keep the world going. There is always the temptation to abandon the effort altogether. For there is always the sowing and the harvesting, the building and the repairing, the falling down and the rising up again. Every day, everything has to be done all over again. In our world, it is always Monday morning.

Every morning, I felt a little excitement as I checked my email, as if part of me believed there would be an unread message - with a beautiful, boldfaced title - waiting in my inbox that would bring me great news or inject energy into my humdrum routine, or, in the highest of hopes, change the course of my prosaic life.

That's what I do. Watch movies and read. Sometimes I even pretend to write, but I'm not fooling anyone. Oh, and I go to the mailbox.

Sometimes I get the feeling that we're just a bunch of habits. The gestures we repeat over and over, they're just our need to be recognized. Without them, we'd be unidentifiable. We have to reinvent ourselves every minute.

I often wonder who will be the last person to see me alive. If I had to bet, it would be on the delivery boy from the Chinese take-out. I order in four nights out of seven. Whenever he comes I make a big production of finding my wallet. He stands in the door holding the greasy bag while I wonder if this is the night I'll finish off my spring roll, climb into bed, and have a heart attack in my sleep.

We move through the day like two hands of a clock: sometimes we overlap for a moment, then come apart again, carrying on alone. Everyday exactly the same: the tea, the burnt toast, the crumbs, the silence.