Samuel Beckett Quotes

The tendency is to keep doing things the way you have done them.

For me, habit is just a synonym for death.

We get into the habit of living before acquiring the habit of thinking. In that race which daily hastens us towards death, the body maintains its irreparable lead.

Everything becomes too normal after a while.

Success is hastened or delayed by one's habits.

The other producer of old age is habit: the deathly process of doing the same thing in the same way at the same hour day after day, first from carelessness, then from inclination, at last from cowardice or inertia. Luckily the inconsequent life is not the only alternative; for caprice is as ruinous as routine. Habit is necessary; it is the habit of having habits, of turning a trail into a rut, that must be incessantly fought against if one is to remain alive.

We always know which is the best road to follow, but we follow only the road that we have become accustomed to.

It is easy to assume a habit; but when you try to cast it off, it will take skin and all.

The evolution from happiness to habit is one of death's best weapons.

There is no place in which to hide when Age comes seeking for his bride.

habit, a particularly insidious thug who chokes passion and smothers love. Habit puts us on autopilot.

We are on Sunday night because that is where they put us 30-odd years ago. I think we became a habit.

If you did the same thing you did yesterday as you did today as you will do tomorrow, what have you done? The same thing.

When you really deep down look at it, we go to bed every night, get up every morning, stay here for 70 or 80 years, and then we die.

Running through things because you are familiar with them, breeds routine and this is the seed of boredom.

When we get in a routine we can become zombie-like and shut down.

Some people die at 25 and aren't buried until 75.

Old age is always wakeful; as if, the longer linked with life, the less man has to do with aught that looks like death.

Habit is a great deadener.

When one begins to live by habit and by quotation, one has begun to stop living.

Normality is death.

We walk ourselves into ruts so deep we cannot see over them.

People are so caught in a routine, doing the same things over and over.

Routines can be a rut.

The brief span of our poor unhappy life to its final hour Is hastening on; and while we drink and call for gay wreaths, Perfumes, and young girls, old age creeps upon us, unperceived.