Best 42 quotes in «monotony quotes» category

I'm a guy who never wanted to hold a steady job, because I was worried about the monotony.

Boredom is therefore a vital problem for the moralist, since at least half the sins of mankind are caused by the fear of it.

Monotony collapses time. Novelty unfolds it.

What novelty is worth that sweet monotony where everything is known, and loved because it is known?

Repetition not for monotony but the ecstasy it induces.

You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living.

After logging into his computer and taking a few sips of coffee, Brian began his workday the way he always did: by closing his eyes and pressing his thumbs against his eyelids with the intent to kill himself by driving his thumbs back into the frontal lobes of his brain.

A vigorous mind shut out from outer stimuli finds in this circumstance the time to develop leisurely, finds a freedom from distraction that leads to clear views of life and a proper expression.

But when first the two black dragons sprang out of the fog upon the small clerk, they had merely the effect of all miracles – they changed the universe. He discovered the fact that all romantics know – that adventures happen on dull days, and not on sunny ones. When the cord of monotony is stretched most tight, it it breaks with a sound like song.

But it was better to know of it than to see it in its daily monotony.

They were married to the highway and the system they’d created and so they simply waited, contending with the heat and the flies and the monotony and the sudden violence, until death came for them.

Could a literary life be referred to with the iambic pentameter of, say, harnessing wind power, transplanting hearts or saving the whales. Or did it necessitate the sombre and monotonous dirge of software, priority banking or turbine building.

Die slowly He who becomes the slave of habit, who follows the same routes every day, who never changes pace, who does not risk and change the color of his clothes, who does not speak and does not experience, dies slowly. He or she who shuns passion, who prefers black on white, dotting ones "it’s" rather than a bundle of emotions, the kind that make your eyes glimmer, that turn a yawn into a smile, that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings, dies slowly. He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy, who is unhappy at work, who does not risk certainty for uncertainty, to thus follow a dream, those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives, die slowly. He who does not travel, who does not read, who does not listen to music, who does not find grace in himself, she who does not find grace in herself, dies slowly. He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem, who does not allow himself to be helped, who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck, about the rain that never stops, dies slowly. He or she who abandon a project before starting it, who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn't know, he or she who don't reply when they are asked something they do know, die slowly. Let's try and avoid death in small doses, reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing. Only a burning patience will lead to the attainment of a splendid happiness.

Every ideal comes from us as do all the amenities of life, in order to make our existence as simple reproducers, for which divine Providence solely intended us, less monotonous and less hard.

Happiness is pretty boring, hard to take - in a word, a pain in the neck.

If there was no such thing as change, men would suffer from monotony. If there was no such thing as monotony, men would yearn for constancy.

In the monotony of everyday existence grief comes as a holiday, and a fire is an entertainment. A scratch embellishes an empty face.

It wasn't like there was some obvious change. Actually, the problem was more a lack of change. Nothing about her had changed - the way she spoke, her clothes, the topics she chose to talk about, her opinions - they were all the same as before. Their relationship was like a pendulum gradually grinding to a halt, and he felt out of synch.

Punpun was just fine again today.

Sex is only boring if you are.

She knew what bothered her at the store...It was that the store intensified things that had always bothered her, as long as she could remember. It was the pointless actions, the meaningless chores that seemed to keep her from doing what she wanted to do, might have done-and here it was the complicated procedures with moneybags, coat checkings, and time clocks that kept people from even serving the store as efficiently as they might-the sense that everyone was incommunicado with everyone else and living on an entirely wrong plane, so that the meaning, the message, the love, or whatever it was that each life contained, never could find its expression.

The distinct feature of everything extant is its monotony.

The more you get set into your own world, the smaller your world becomes.

The thoughts of a prisoner—they're not free either. They kept returning to the same things. A single idea keeps stirring. Would they feel that piece of bread in the mattress? Would he have any luck in the dispensary that evening? Would they out Buinovsky in the cells? And how did Tsezar get his hands on that warm vest?

This was to say, however, that she did not long, at times, for some even greater variation, that she did not pass through those abnormal hours in which one thirsts for something different from what one has, when those people who, through lack of energy or imagination, are unable to generate any motive power in themselves, cry out, as the clock strikes or the postman knocks, in their eagerness for news (even if it be bad news), for some emotion (even that of grief); when the heartstrings, which prosperity has silenced, like a harp laid by, yearn to be plucked and sounded again by some hand, even a brutal hand, even if it shall break them; when the will, which has with such difficulty brought itself to subdue to its impulse, to renounce its right to abandon itself to its own uncontrolled desires, and consequent sufferings, would fain cast its guiding reins into the hands of circumstances, coercive and, it may be, cruel.

It is almost possible to measure a writer's skill by the dexterity with which he repeats, and yet avoids monotony.

It’s hopeless, trying to recruit a stranger to help me find someone who’s a stranger to him. But then again, we are all strangers to ourselves, caught up in the monotony of daily life, stuck in our routines, never really stopping to think about what will happen to us if we fall off track.

Monotony is the most beautiful or the most atrocious thing. The most beautiful if it is a reflection of eternity--the most atrocious if it is the sign of an unvarying perpetuity. It is time surpassed or time sterilized.

monotony kills the heart. Ironically, monotony is what keeps the heart working.

Raised as we are on the mythology of the Old Testament, we might say that an idyll is an image that has remained with us like a memory of Paradise: life in Paradise was not like following a straight line to the unknown; it was not an adventure. It moved in a circle among known objects. Its monotony bred happiness, not boredom.

The endurance of monotony has about the same place in a healty mind that the endurance of darkness has: that is to say, as a strong intellect will have pleasure in the solemnities of storm and twilight, and in the broken and mysterious lights that gleam among them, rather than in mere brilliancy and glare, while a frivolous mind will dread the shadow and storm; and as a great man will be ready to endure much darkness of fortune in order to reach greater eminence of power or felicity, while an inferior man will not pay the price; exactly in like manner a great mind will accept, or even delight in, monotony which would be wearisome to an inferior intellect, because it has more patience and power of expectation, and is ready to pay the full price for the great future pleasure of change.

You are the remedy of intensity i need in my life, to spin me out of the miserable monotony of working on life's daily assembly lines.

When compared side by side, my days can barely be distinguished from one another. The only difference is what I do after work and with whom I do it.

To seek contentment is to release the novelty that lies within monotony

When we don't change the way we do things; their sameness keeps adding to the small overlooked failures which we fail to notice; when others start pointing that to us, we blame them for blaming us and not the circumstances; but we fail to realize that the circumstances are the results of everyone trying to think & act in a similar manner.

...I have always lived on contrasts! To me the only death is monotony. Beware of monotony; it's the mother of all the deadly sins.

You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those winter Saturdays all alike.

Certainly, nothing can be more simple than monotony.

I am not greedy of money myself, but the monotony of always screwing and paring is more tiresome than the monotony of riches.

A variety of nothing is superior to a monotony of something.

how tedious is retirement! You cannot imagine to yourself the monotony with which day comes after day.

I could use a little monotony in my life. Spontaneity is exhausting.