Quotes About Sleep

I don't snore." He nodded with a wide grin. "It's a quiet peaceful kind of snoring. Like a small cuddly Tasmanian devil. Kind of cute when sleeping, all claws and teeth when awake. "You snore worse. At least I don't turn into a lion in my sleep.

There were bags under my eyes and they weren't Prada.

when sleep mugged him.

You're welcome. I plan to hold them hostage until you sleep with me." I stumbled. He turned and gave me a brilliant, impossibly handsome smile. "Just kidding." Damn it. "Have lunch with me," Rogan said. "No.

If you're really hard up, I can introduce you to my grandmother. She's a fan. [...] She doesn't typically sleep with pretty young things, but she would make an exception in your case. You might even learn a trick or two.

About fifteen minutes into the drive, Conlan gave up singing the sad song of his people and fell asleep.

Heaven has given human beings three things to balance the odds of life: hope, sleep, and laughter.

Sie arbeiteten, lasen, gingen herum, aßen, organisierten Spiele, Darbietungen, aber nur ein Teil ihrer selbst handelte; der andere schlief einen schmerzhaften Schlaf und würde erst an dem gesegneten Tag (doch wann würde er kommen? Wann?) erwachen, an dem man ihnen sagte: «Jetzt ist es soweit, es ist vorbei».

They slept so soundly, though, nothing would wake them before daybreak. That was obvious. They could pass from sleep to death without even realising it.

There is a gulf fixed between those who can sleep and those who cannot. It is one of the greatest divisions of the human race.

Let me sleep at last. I've had misery enough in my life. You said there was nowhere to go to. There is death to go to. I've had misery enough in my life.

And she did seem then to go to sleep instantly: the quick flight into oblivion of the chronically unhappy person.

There are special nightmares for the daytime sleeper: little nervous dreams tossed into some brief restless moments of unconsciousness and breaking through the surface of the mind to become confused at once with the horror of some waking vision. Such are these awakenings, like an awakening in the grave, when one opens one's eyes, stretched out rigid with clenched hands, waiting for some misery to declare itself; but for a long time it lies to suffocation upon the chest and utters no word.

She was dressed to go to bed only it was ridiculously early to go to bed. She desired to be unconscious.

Not to have been born is undoubtedly best, but sound sleep is second best.

O death, rock me asleep, bring me to quiet rest. Let pass my weary guilty ghost out of my careful breast.

It was too late to go to Gaze now, everyone would be in bed. It was a comforting thought. Whatever was happening it was not happening now. There was nothing he could do now. Sleep was overwhelming him again, great clouds and folds of sleep like a warm fog.

Let him die peacefully in his sleep and not know. Only not tonight, not tonight.

A talent for oblivion is a talent for survival. I laid my head down and merciful pain-killing sleep covered me fathoms deep. Not to have been born is undoubtedly best, but sound sleep is second best.

Misery and drink made him a sound sleeper.

Thir must be less tae life than this. More pain, then more sleep/pain.

like a bairn trying tae stay up as late as possible.

You're surrounded by people in the waking period, and you feel their eyes and their hopes on you. You can't stand up under it. In the sleep period, you're free.

Oh, hell! I can't sleep!" "Neither can I! But I might as well try—as a matter of principle."   Twelve hours later, sleep was still just that—a matter of principle, unattainable in practice.