Gustave Flaubert Quotes on Routine
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And now she could not bring herself to believe that the uneventful life she was leading was the happiness of which she had dreamed.
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So from now on the days were going to continue one after the other like this, always the same, innumerable, bringing nothing! . . . It was God's will. The future was a pitch-black tunnel, ending in a locked door. She gave up her music: why should she play? Who was there to listen? . . . She left her drawing books and her embroidery in a closet. What was the use of anything? What was the use?
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Be regular and orderly in your life like a bourgeois, so that you