Quotes About Monotony

To pile up honey upon sugar, and sugar upon honey, to an interminable tedious sweetness.

Living like this means the year stops making sense, and the month and the week. The dates fall away from the days, like glass punched out of window frames, or ice cubes out of a tray into a sink, identical, dateless, nameless durational blobs, melting into an undifferentiated puddle. Is that a Saturday, a Friday, a Monday? Is that

Life was menial and lacked enchantment.

I feel monotony and death to be almost the same.

There wasn't a day on the trail when that monotony didn't ultimately win out, when the only thing to think about was whatever was the physically hardest. It was a sort of scorching cure. I counted my steps, working my way to a hundred and starting over again at one. Each time I completed another set it seemed as if I'd achieved a small thing. Then a hundred became too optimistic and I went to fifty, then twenty-five, then ten.

Outside of a teapot life is but thousands of dusty affairs.

There is nothing so desperately monotonous as the sea, and I no longer wonder at the cruelty of pirates.

* Monday * Tuesday * Wednesday * Thursday * Friday * I blinked * Monday

Today is the longest day of the year—but anymore, every day is.

Security and safety were the reward of dullness.

There was a perception that life here was-I won't say gray, that's hard for me-but beige.

For how imperiously, how coolly, in disregard of all one's feeling, does the hard, cold, uninteresting course of daily realities move on! Still must we eat, and drink, and sleep, and wake again,—still bargain, buy, sell, ask and answer questions,—pursue, in short, a thousand shadows, though all interest in them be over; the cold mechanical habit of living remaining, after all vital interest in it has fled.

In a world full of war, famine, oppression, deceit, monotony, what—apart from the eternal innocence of animals—offers an image of hope? A mother with a newborn child in her arms? The child may end up as a murderer or a murder victim, so that the hopeful image is a prefiguration of a pietà: a mother with her newly dead child on her lap.

He found himself reading the same sentence over and over. He found himself reading the same sentence over and over. He found himself reading the same sentence over and over. But

He found himself reading the same sentence over and over. He found himself reading the same sentence over and over. He found himself reading the same sentence over and

The central theme of Anna Karenina," he said, "is that a rural life of moral simplicity, despite its monotony, is the preferable personal narrative to a daring life of impulsive passion, which only leads to tragedy.

In short, everything that might make a town interesting or pleasant had been made boring or unpleasant, and if Paltryville had been listed in a guidebook the only helpful hint about what to do when you got there would be: "Leave.

Boredom is an emptiness filled with insistence.

Everything intelligent is so boring.

There is nothing so desperately monotonous as the sea; I no longer wonder at the cruelty of pirates.

Life seems nothing more than a quick succession of busy nothings.

one day in the country is exactly like another.

We seem to have come to a sort of impasse, the spirit of the dromenon is dead or dying, the spectators will not stay long to watch a doing doomed to monotony.

Conformity and monotony, even when they are embellished with a froth of novelty, are not attributes of developing and economically vigorous cities. They are attributes of stagnant settlements.