Quotes About Sleep

How was he ever going to get any rest if his dreams were going to be this tiring?

Asleep she was a painting of a fire. Awake she was the fire itself

I watched her sleep with the calm contentment of a boy who has no idea of how foolish he is, or what unexpected tragedies the following day will bring.

Sleep met him like a lover in an empty bed.

I even started a few rumors that were pure nonsense, lies so outrageous that people would repeat them despite the fact that they were obviously untrue. I had demon blood in me. I could see in the dark. I only slept an hour each night. When the moon was full I would talk in my sleep, speaking a strange language no one could understand.

Sleep offers us a retreat from the world and all its pain. Sleep marks passing time, giving us distance from the things that have hurt us.

El sueño nos ofrece un refugio del mundo y de todo su dolor.

I grew thinner and more ragged. I slept in rain or sun, on soft grass, moist earth, or sharp stones with an intensity of indifference that only grief can promote.

I don't remember starting out that morning, but I do remember trying to sleep and feeling quite alone except for a dull, bittersweet ache.

First is the door of sleep. Sleep offers us a retreat from the world and all its pain. Sleep marks passing time, giving us distance from the things that have hurt us.

Había aprendido a dormir con cosas mucho peores que aquello. En el pasado, antes de que llegara él. Antes de que ella tuviera su nuevo nombre, dulce y perfecto.

I couldn't remember whether I'd slept on the floor out of fear of assassins or bedbugs.

Estaba tan cansado que me habría dormido encima de un caballo al galope. Hasta me habría dormido debajo de un caballo al galope.

ponder my vast cleverness while I sleep. Wake me when you need anything else figured out.

In dreams you often fall before you wake.

The fire flickered and died. Sleep met him like a lover in an empty bed.

Dormida era el cuadro de un incendio. Despierta era el fuego mismo.

Asleep she was a painting of a fire. Awake she was fire itself.

There was also a great rectangular stone lying on its side near the pool. A few days earlier I would have recognized it as a greystone. Now I saw it as an efficient windbreak, something to put my back against as I slept.

Denna rolled herself into my blanket and curled up with her back to the fire. "I will allow you to ponder my vast cleverness while I sleep. Wake me when you need anything else figured out.

Cet homme paraissait être tellement fatigué de sa vie qu'il ne voulait même pas vivre ses dernières heures éveillé.

It is said that the only thing deeper than the sleep of the just is the sleep of the just after, but

Lisbon is a good city to get lost in. Mornings in cafes scribbling in yet another notebook, each blank page offering escape, the pen serving, fluid and constant. I sleep well, dream little, simply exists within an uninterrupted interlude.

Do not cast your boat on a river of tears, cried the tearing wind. Small hands are still, be still. She knelt then lay on her side, clutching a key, accepting kindness of endless sleep.