Quotes About Sleep

Sweet sleep be with us, one and all! And if upon its stillness fall The visions of a busy brain, We'll have our pleasure o'er again, To warm the heart, to charm the sight, Gay dreams to all! good night, good night.

In my sleep I had a dream and this dream was a dream of guilt. It was not human guilt but the kind of helpless, hopeless despair that would be felt by a small wooden box or geometrical cube if such objects had consciousness; it was the guilt of sheer existence.

Why does this faerie follow you everywhere?" he asked. "Do you think she's plotting to murder you in your sleep?" he teased. My wings and the tips of my feet tingled with anger. But then he reached a finger toward me gently, and the anger melted. "Let's name her Tinker Bell," he said, like I was their child. He swooped his hand underneath me. "Hi, little Tink." Hearing him say it thrilled me-a name Peter had invented, just for me.

Briery Swamp slept. And May Ellen Bird, only a baby after all, who did not know the strange history of her town or even the name of it yet, was blissfully unaware that it slept with one eye open.

Being a cat is nice, said the nearby Cat. I grant you that. Being a cat means you can go from violence to affection without any discernible transition. I kill, I purr, I eat, I sleep.

Later that night, Sylvie sat in bed with a book open in her lap. She was too sleepy to read, but the proximity of the book was comforting. Telling

She immediately withdrew from the casement, and, though much agitated, sought in sleep the refreshment of a short oblivion.

For this gloomy beast within my breast - A heart. But the thing is, We've all had to learn not to sleep for three years. In the morning we shall find out Who has died in the night.

You dreamt of me, I knew, And hence I couldn't sleep. The lantern flickered blue And there my path ran steep. [...] "This is a lake," you thought. "There is an island here..." Just then, on the darkened road, A little blue light appeared. By wretched sunlight severed, You stirred and moaned in pain, And for the first time ever, You called me by my name.

But on that pale hand is no ring of mine, To no one will I give it, ever. The new moon's golden beam forged it for me, And slipping it on in my sleep, whispered to me entreatingly; 'Treasure this gift, be proud of the dream!' I won't give the ring to anyone, ever.

The first ray -- as the blessing of the Lord -- Across the face of the beloved did creep, Who, sleeping, went a little pale, And then again more tightly went to sleep. It seemed that warmth of ray of sun Appeared to him just like a kiss. And long with these my lips I have not touched The tan strong shoulder or the dear lips. And now, the deceased spirits in my long Disconsolate wandering along the way, I am now flying toward him as a song And I caress him with a morning ray.

Insomnia is when both sides of the pillow feel hot

I will lead a man to dear one -- I don't want the little joy -- And I'll quietly lay to sleep The glad, tired little boy. In a chilly room once more I will pray to Mother of God, It is hard to be a hermit, To be happy is also hard. Only fiery sleep will come to me, I'll enter a temple on the hill, Five-domed, white, and stone-hewn, On the paths remembered well.

I will quietly in the churchyard Sleep on wooden boards in the sun, On the Sunday as guest to mother You will come, my dear one -- Through the river over the mountain Can't catch up to grown ones From afar, the sharp-eyed fellow, This my cross you'll recognize. I know, dear one, very little Can you now recall of me: Did not scold you, did not fawn you, Did not hold the cup to thee.

At last with a thud her head dropped to the table, and the dishes began to clatter and clink with the violence of her snores.

And then she took her wishes with her into her sleep.

Q: What does the human spirit do after ten days without sleep, and ten days of isolation tempered only by nocturnal threat sessions? A: It dreams up a solution.

Apparently, even in the GDR, sleep deprivation amounted to torture, and torture, at least of minors, was not official policy.

Mit einem Spatz erwachte Camille Fauque aus einem tiefen Schlaf, es folgten zwei, dann drei, dann ein ganzer Vogelschwarm spöttisch dreinschauender Vögel. Sie hatte seit über einem Jahr nichts mehr gezeichnet.

All I wanted then was for everything to go on as before, so that I could stay deeply asleep, and be no more than a hole in space, not here or anywhere at all, for as long as possible, preferably forever.

But the thoughts were excellent hunters and devoured sleep.

O Death, rock me asleep, bring me to quiet rest, let pass my weary guiltless ghost out of my careful breast.

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.

He / thought of women. / What is it like to be a woman / listening in the dark? Black mantle of silence / stretches between them like geothermal pressure. / Ascent of the rapist up the stairs seems as slow as / lava. She listens / to the blank space where / his consciousness is, moving towards her. Lava can / move as slow as / nine hours per inch. [...] She wonders if / he is listening too. The cruel thing is, she falls asleep / listening.