Quotes About Sleep

What if you slept? And what if, in your sleep, you went to heaven and there plucked a strange and beautiful flower? And what if,when you awoke,you had the flower in your hand? Ah, what then?

Dream happy dreams. You are the only one who has ever touched my heart. It will always be yours. Sleep,my only love.

I love the silent hour of night, for blissful dreams may then arise, revealing to my charmed sight what may not bless my waking eyes.

So, fall asleep love, loved by me... for I know love, I am loved by thee.

I can sleep. I love sleep; it's my favorite.

But as we have seen, recurring transitions and crises are proof that civilization never enjoys a long, untroubled sleep.

I feel underslept but overjoyed. Nothing feels so good as this.

Without enough sleep, we all become tall two-year-olds.

I had been having trouble sleeping, and had found that actually getting up was marginally preferable to lying in my bed batting away the swirling mess of my thoughts.

was easy to lose perspective when you'd had no sleep and had been stuck for forty-eight hours with a gastro-intestinally challenged man and a bathroom with deeply inadequate soundproofing.

I love you, babe." And, satisfied, he rolled off, threw an arm back over his head, and was asleep within minutes. When

They're paying her to sleep now. I could hear my father's exclamation. Praise the lord, she's found her dream career.

I had woken after a fitful few hours, struggling to shake off the tangled dreams that had woven themselves through my sleep, and stumbled down the corridor on automatic pilot, a caffeine-seeking zombie.

I hadn't slept properly for days and felt half dead, as if the fury and adrenalin that had sustained me had all leached away.

slept at all. I didn't want to think how it would feel, to lie trapped in a bed you couldn't get out of with only dark thoughts to keep you company through the small hours.

But there, in the inky dark, half drunk from lack of sleep, with the fire and the endless sea and infinite sky, with the sounds of the music in our ears...and my heart bursting this something I couldn't quite identify, I just needed to dance.

I was on the airplane after spending one of those nights of the damned that produces artists or serial killers. Sleep brought nightmares of violence and loss. Waking brought its own anxieties. Every noise in the old house assumed a sinister tone. Closing and locking the bedroom door provided no security to my imagination. Nor did keeping on every light. So I lay down, turned from side to side, got up, prowled, came back to bed, over and over.

On the hop from Manchester to New York, she and Bill settled into adjoining seats at the front of the jet. They fell asleep, her head on his shoulder and his head propped against hers.

I felt myself falling asleep; my eyes were closing, and then I thought, Maybe I should just kill myself. Suicidal thoughts always sneak up on me like that. But I don't mind them. They're like aspirin. They calm me down.

Nie ma nic dziwnego w tym, ?e obserwujemy systematyczne redukowanie czasu snu, je?li wzi?? pod uwag?, o jak? ekonomiczn? stawk? toczy si? gra.

Sleep is an uncompromising interruption of the theft of time from us by capitalism.

There are now very few significant interludes of human existence (with the colossal exception of sleep) that have not been penetrated and taken over as work time, consumption time, or marketing time.

The denial of sleep is the violent dispossession of self by external force, the calculated shattering of an individual.

One of the many reasons human cultures have long associated sleep with death is that they each demonstrate the continuity of the world in our absence.