Habit (n.) of the only kind a child should be allowed to contract is that of having no habits.
Habit (n.) becomes a second nature, replacing our real nature so completely that we lose all knowledge of it.
Habit (n.) adds a fresh need to those of nature, until desire is no longer the effect of need but of habit.
Habit (n.) is useful in only two forms, the child's of submitting easily to necessity and the man's of submitting easily to reason, and every other habit is a vice.
Habit (n.) bends nature like a plant trained flat: it keeps the shape, but the sap never changed its course, and every new shoot grows straight up.
Habit (n.) acquired under compulsion is no habit: however long you stay in prison you never acquire a taste for it — aversion grows with such habit.
Habit (n.) owes its charm to our natural idleness; it is strong in the aged and indolent, weak in the young and active, and good only for feeble hearts, which it makes feebler.
Habit (n.) overpowers imagination in everything, since imagination is roused only by the new — and passions are kindled only at the flame of imagination.