Quotes About Sleep

Whatever you choose, your choice will mean there are two new worlds. And perhaps sometimes, on the edge of sleep, we will see the shadow of the other world. There will be no unhappy memories.

It felt like those treasured moments in bed when you're just awake enough to know that you're still nicely asleep.

Rincewind had in any case seen his past life flash in front of his eyes so many times that he could sleep through the boring bits.

They said that dying was just like going to sleep, although of course if you weren't careful bits of you could rot and drop off.

It's yet another thing that irritates me this morning, on top of the fact that I'm hungry. I didn't sleep well, and now the mosquitos have found me. Mosquitos always find me. Whenever I step outside , it's as if they can hear their dinner bell ring, and already I am slapping at my neck and face.

She needed so badly to sleep, but could not quiet the chaos in her head.

I couldn't sleep in this racket.' 'That's birds and crickets,' she said smiling. 'Yeah, well, give me pigeons and cabs rattling across cobblestones and cabbies swearing. This green stuff's alright in its place, and that place is a park. Bloody blooming hell, something's just stung me!' In front of them, Joe snorted. 'What does he know? He wouldn't last half a day in London,' said Charlie.

You should have a chance to observe him when he sleeps. Look deeply, and see the tenderness that is revealed, the suffering, the hope, the despair that can be expressed during sleep. Sit there for fifteen minutes or half an hour, and just look. Understanding and compassion will arise in you, and you will know how to be there for your partner.

When you have trouble sleeping, follow your breathing in and breathing out. Bring your awareness to the different parts of your body in turn, and allow them to relax.

The shields were enormous. In 'Julius Caesar,' I died early in the scene and used to fall asleep under the shield until I was woken up by applause.

I like a late-night one but my missus isn't as keen - she likes a bit earlier, and she likes to go to bed early as well.

What keeps me up at night? Anxiety. Anxiety, the inability to go to sleep, it's quite literally that.

My bed is actually two king beds put together.

I'm hopefully in bed and asleep by 10:30. I'm usually yawning by 7:30, 8. You go to the gym and push yourself so you're knocked out by nighttime.

Alcohol is a class of drugs that we call 'the sedatives.' And what you're doing is just knocking your brain out. You're not putting it into natural sleep.

What the feck?" Dani snapped when I answered. "You sleep like the fecking dead up there! I been calling you for five fecking minutes!

Lists had become my anchors. They got me through the days. The oblivion of sleep got me through the nights.

He touches my face. There is something different in his touch. It feels like he's saying good-bye, and I know a moment of panic. But my dream sky darkens and sleep's moon fills the horizon. "Don't leave me." I thrash in the sheets. "I'm not, Mac." I know I am dreaming then, because dreams are home to the absurd and what he says next is beyond absurd. "You're leaving me, Rainbow Girl.

Buona notte, Lisa. Dormi con gli angeli... Poi torna sulla terra e dormi col tuo diavolo, che sarebbe disposto a bruciare all'inferno, per una notte tra le tue braccia

Sleep with the angels, my Brude queen," he said softly. But come back. This devil needs you like he's never needed anything before.

Lists had become my anchors. They got me through the days. The oblivion of sleep got me through the nights. So long as I knew exactly where I was going and what I was doing the next day, I didn't flounder.

Hundreds of our old neighbors, friends, coworkers, and teachers are new insomniacs. They file for dream bankruptcy, appeal for Slumber Corps aid, wait to be approved for a sleep donor. It is a special kind of homelessness, says our mayor, to be evicted from your dreams. I believe our mayor is both genuinely concerned for his insomniac constituency, and also pandering to a powerfully desperate new voting block.

Doesn't it matter how you ask the question? Or if the tone of your request is closer to a fist than to an open palm? Can the nature of the request corrupt the purity of the gift, the donated sleep?

March 1. DEAR BABY: I like the way you turn in half circles on the mattress, like a senile clock.