Quotes About Sleep

Como a veces no puede dormir, en vez de contar corderitos contesta mentalmente la correspondencia atrasada, porque su mala conciencia tiene tanto insomnio como él.

porque el reposo es eufemismo de derrota, y el sueño máscara de una nada metida en cada poro de la vida [...]

Yo dormiría mejor después de besarla y consolarla y repetir todo lo que ya le han dicho éstos.»

Me acosté y no quise leer, capaz que hice mal porque no me venía el sueño y me pasaba lo de siempre a esa hora en que se pierde la voluntad y las ideas saltan de todos lados y parecen ciertas, todo lo que se piensa de golpe es cierto y casi siempre horrible y no hay manera de quitárselo de encima ni rezando.

Casi siempre tuve que abrir los ojos a la ceniza de un amanecer, buscar una bata fría y ver llegar la fatiga anterior a todo esfuerzo, el sabor a pizarra de un día interminable. No sé vivir sin cansancio, sin dormir; no sé por qué la noche odia mi sueño y lo combate, murciélagos afrontados sobre mi cuerpo desnudo.

Hablar de despertarse cuando por fin se está tan bien dormido

Salir, hacer, poner al día, no eran cosas que ayudaran a dormirse.

Okay, we didn´t work, and all memories to tell you the truth aren't good. But sometimes there were good times. Love was good. I loved your crooked sleep beside me and never dreamed afraid. There should be stars for great wars like ours.

Se suponía que al crecer uno perdiera la capacidad de dormir con facilidad en lugares nuevos, pero yo nunca la tuve como para perderla.

And then, despite all these concerns, Arnette felt her mind begin to loosen, the images of the day unwinding inside her like a spool of thread, pulling her down into sleep.

All night his mind seemed to skip over the surface of sleep like a stone upon water, never quite breaking the skin. As

Too many what-ifs are just a way to keep yourself up at night, and there's not enough decent sleep to go around.

He had entered sleep's antechamber, the place where dreams and memories mingled, telling their strange stories; yet part of him was still in the car, listening to the rain.

He felt not so much awake as ejected bodily from sleep; his mind felt beaten clean.

He had entered sleep's antechamber, the place where dreams and memories mingled, telling their strange stories;

O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down And steep my senses in forgetfulness? —SHAKESPEARE, Henry IV, Part II

It was strange watching somebody sleep. It felt intrusive, as if you had caught them at their most defenseless. And as you watched them, motionless, you couldn't help but wonder -if only for a moment- whether they had died, and watch furiously for signs of life

And belief, like love and sleep, is something you can't do anything about. You can't make it come if you want it, and you can't make it go if you don't.

He could feel himself sliding into sleep, there was a dream already open and waiting for him to fall into it.

He had proved beyond any reasonable doubt that gods and devils were simply myth and superstition, but deep in his unruly peasant heart ("My father was a village apothecary and my mother was a goatherd's daughter. Can you imagine?") he believed...And belief, like love and sleep, is something you can't do anything about. You can't make it come if you want it, and you can't make it go if you don't.

We fear death, yet we long for slumber and beautiful dreams.

In battle, in forest, at the precipice in the mountains On the dark great sea, in the midst of javelins and arrows, In sleep, in confusion, in the depths of shame, The good deeds a man has done before defend him.

Time yet to come? Tomorrow's day? Still, still some dream will time repay, Or sleep too deep for dreaming? Perhaps this life which here I live Is but a sleep, and dawn will give Only another seeming? Or that best rose, long longed-for here, That fruit the wide earth did not bear, Will dawn and death disclose? Who knows?—Oh, no one knows!

When we go to sleep ordinarily, we're doing something really private. It's kind of an intimate, private connection with our sort of physical humanity.