Habit is habit and not to be flung out of the window by any man, but
coaxed downstairs a step at a time.
To have nothing the matter with you and no habits is pretty tame, pretty
colorless. It is just the way a saint feels, I reckon; it is at least
the way he looks. I never could stand a saint.
You can't reach old age by another man's road. My habits protect my life
but they would assassinate you.
Dave Thomson collection
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