Habit (n.) is nothing but one of the principles of nature, and derives all its force from that origin.
Habit (n.) is subjective necessity disguised as objective necessity — what the mind feels it must expect, mistaken for what it sees must be.
Habit (n.) reforms the mind: keep a course of sobriety and you will hate riot; keep to business and idleness will feel like a punishment.
Habit (n.) spreads to whatever resembles its object: the man used to pears makes do with melons, and the drunkard made on red wine is carried almost as violently to white.
Habit (n.) consolidates what other principles of nature founded imperfectly: once accustomed to obedience, men never think of leaving the path their ancestors trod.
Habit (n.) hides the reasons for our virtues: the views most familiar to us escape us for that very reason, and we go on blaming injustice mechanically without recalling why.