Habit rules the unreflecting herd.

As thou these ashes, little brook! will bear Into the Avon, Avon to the tide Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas, Into main ocean they, this deed accurst, An …

The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an Angel's wing.

A man he seems of cheerful yesterdays And confident tomorrows.

You should rather be grateful for the weeds you have in you mind, because eventually they will enrich your practice.

Whatever you would make habitual, practice it; and if you would not make a thing habitual, do not practice it, but accustom yourself to something else.

One will rarely err if extreme actions be ascribed to vanity, ordinary actions to habit, and mean actions to fear.