Quotes About Reward

Over the years, I've learned that it's important that we give ourselves treats—which may sound self-indulgent or frivolous, but it's not. When we give more to ourselves, we can ask more from ourselves. Treats help us to stick to challenging goals, resist unhealthy temptations, and shrug off small irritations. When we don't get any treats, we can begin to feel burned-out, depleted, and resentful.

Moral Licensing Loophole: In moral licensing, we give ourselves permission to do something "bad" (eat potato chips, bust the budget) because we've been "good." We reason that we've earned it or deserve it.

Many assume that offering a reward will help people to jump-start a healthy habit, which will then persist after the reward fades away. Not so. Often, as soon as the reward stops (and sometimes before it stops), the behavior stops.

Extroversion: response to reward Neuroticism: response to threat Conscientiousness: response to inhibition (self-control, planning) Agreeableness: regard for others Openness to experience: breadth of mental associations

Unlike a reward, which must be earned or justified, a "treat" is a small pleasure or indulgence that we give to ourselves just because we want it.

If you're doing something that you don't enjoy and you don't have the gratification of success, failure is particularly painful. But doing what you love is itself the reward.

The second reason rewards pose a danger for habits is that they require a decision. A habit, by my definition, is something we do without decision making.

By finding my reward within the habit itself, with a reward that takes me deeper into the habit. If I look outside a habit for a reward, I undermine the habit. If I look within the habit for the reward, I strengthen the habit.

The reward for a good habit is the habit itself.

Studies show that if you reward people for doing an activity, they often stop doing it for fun; being paid turns it into "work.

Studies show that if you reward people for doing an activity, they often stop doing it for fun; being paid turns it into "work." Parents, for example, are warned not to reward children for reading—they're teaching kids to read for a reward, not for pleasure.

A hard truth: that courage can be without meaning or impact, need not be rewarded, or even known. The world has not been made in that way. Perhaps, however, within the self there might come a resonance, the awareness of having done something difficult, of having done . . . something .

You have to sit by the river a very long time before a roast duck will fly into your mouth.

The widely accepted assertion that, only if you let markets be will everyone be paid correctly and thus fairly, according to his worth, is a myth. Only when we part with this myth and grasp the political nature of the market and the collective nature of individual productivity will we be able to build a more just society in which historical legacies and collective actions, and not just individual talents and efforts, are properly taken into account in deciding how to reward people.

The rewards of great living are not external things, withheld until the crowning hour of success arrives; they come by the way, — in the consciousness of growing power and worth, of duties nobly met, and work thoroughly done. To the true artist, working always in humility and sincerity, all life is a reward, and every day brings a deeper satisfaction. Joy and peace are by the way.

Here it is self-evident that public admiration and monetary reward are of the same nature and can become substitutes for each other. Public admiration, too, is something to be used and consumed, and status, as we would say today, fulfils one need as food fulfils another: public admiration is consumed by individual vanity as food is consumed by hunger.

The point then is not that there is a lack of public admiration for poetry and philosophy in the modern world, but that such admiration does not constitute a space in which things are saved from destruction by time. The futility of public admiration, which daily is consumed in ever greater quantities, on the contrary, is such that monetary reward, one of the most futile things there is, can become more "objective" and more real.

Playing someone difficult is tough and can be discouraging, but if you beat them the payoff is huge!

The tougher the job, the greater the reward.

For me to call myself a musician, it's necessary to play live, and it rewards so much - not just in the pay cheque sense but what it does for my playing. I feel it through a tour - I feel it at the end of a tour - all that I've gathered, and especially now that I am improvising so much.

I played golf for 25 years before I made a hole-in-one of any kind. I was on the tour for years before it finally happened. Eventually I made 23, but boy, that first one was a long time coming. It was the price I paid for not shooting at every flag.

You look at driving down the road, night after night, tryin' to make a town, getting $25 - that's hard times. It's our duty to make it good times for the fans that pay their money to see us perform each and every night.

The Saints are the elect children of the spouse of Christ, the precious fruit of her body; they are her crown of glory. And when these dear children quit her to reap their eternal reward, the mother retains precious memorials of them and holds up their example to her other children to encourage them to follow their glorious traces.

Romance, like the rabbit at the dog track, is the elusive, fake, and never attained reward which, for the benefit and amusement of our masters, keeps us running and thinking in safe circles.