Quotes About Sleep

I don't think I can live a life of compromise. If I did, I wouldn't be able to sleep properly.

I can't close my left eye properly. I have to sleep with a little eye mask and my mouth still goes to the side when I talk, although people don't really notice.

No one knows the complete function of sleep. Is it to reset the brain or give it more of a rest period? Is it for cleaning the brain of all the garbage protein? For me, talking about these things as a non-biologist is fascinating.

Wine is an escape from grief, a slip into sleep, a cool forgetting of the hot pains of day. What better cure for being human?

Soon someone would say the fatal words, Well, I think it's time for me to go to bed.

I haven't been to sleep for over a year. That's why I go to bed early. One needs more rest if one doesn't sleep.

Here it seemed some of them slept for there were divan beds covered with blankets only and a large, much undenticulated, comb.

There should be a drug for soldiers, Guy thought, to put them to sleep until they were needed. They should repose among the briar like the knights of the Sleeping Beauty; they should be laid away in their boxes in the nursery cupboard. This unvarying cycle of excitement and disappointment rubbed them bare of paint and exposed the lead beneath.

The worst thing in the world is to try to sleep and not to.

Dear, don't think of getting out of bed yet. I've always suspected that early rising in early life makes one nervous.

His youth seemed never so vanished as now in the contrast between the utter loneliness of this visit and that riotous, joyful party of four years before. Things that had been the merest commonplaces of his life then, deep sleep, the sense of beauty around him, all desire, had flown away and the gaps they left were filled only with the great listlessness of his disillusion.

The tears coursed down her cheeks - not freely, however, for when they came into contact with her heavily beaded eyelashes they assumed an inky color, and pursued the rest of their way in slow black rivulets. A humorous suggestion was made that she sing the notes on her face whereupon she threw up her hands, sank into a chair and went off into a deep vinous sleep.

Always, after he was in bed, there were voices - indefinite, fading, enchanting - just outside his window, and before he fell asleep he would dream one of his favorites waking dreams.

He was born sleepless, without a talent for rest or the desire for it.

His was a great sin who first invented consciousness. Let us lose it for a few hours.

Sleep - real sleep, the dear, the cherished one, the lullaby. So deep and warm the bed and the pillow enfolding me, letting me sink into peace, nothingness - my dreams now, after the catharsis of the dark hours, are of young and lovely people doing young, lovely things, the girls I knew once, with big brown eyes, real yellow hair.

As he sat on the side of the bed, he felt the room, the house and the night as empty. In the next room Nicole muttered something in her sleep. For him time stood still and then every few years accelerated in a rush, like the quick re-wind of a film, but for Nicole the years slipped away by clock and calendar and birthday, with the added poignance of her perishable beauty.

Oh, sleep that dreams, and dream that never tires, press from the petals of the lotus flower something of this to keep, the essence of an hour.

Goodnight, child. This is a damn shame. Let's drop it out of the picture. He gave her two lines of hospital patter to go to sleep on. So many people are going to love you and it might be nice to meet your first love all intact, emotionally too. That's an old-fashioned idea, isn't it?

unknown men. Most of the confidences were unsought—frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or

Each night he added to the pattern of his fancies until drowsiness closed down upon some vivid scene with an oblivious embrace.

The essence of what I desire is simply this: to sleep away life.

I had the same sensation as when we watch someone sleep. When asleep we all become children again. Perhaps because in the state of slumber we can do no wrong and are unconscious of life, the greatest criminal and most self- absorbed egotist are holy, by a natural magic, as long as they're sleeping. For me there's no discernible difference between killing a child and killing a sleeping man.

If this be to have sense, if to be awake Be but to see this bright, great sleep of things, For the rarer potion mine own dreams I'll take And for truth commune with imaginings