Quotes About Bed

I've had lots of supernatural experiences, but I always just blame them on my brain playing tricks. About five years ago, I woke up to a little girl lying next to me in my bed and when I reacted to her, she mirrored what I did.

We have two dogs, Mabel and Wolf, and three cats at home, Charlie, George and Chairman. We have two cats on our farm, Tom and Little Sister, two horses, and two mini horses, Hannah and Tricky. We also have two cows, Holy and Madonna. And those are only the animals we let sleep in our bed.

This is the very womb and bed of enormity.

Everyone thinks I like to sleep. It's not that I like to sleep, it's that I don't like to get up! There is a difference.

The rules didn't say whose clothes we had to wear," she whispered. "And it was the closest thing to you in that empty bed.

Yo fui un soldado que durmió en el lecho de Cleopatra la reina. Su blancura y su mirada astral y omnipotente. Eso fue todo. I was a soldier who slept in the bed of Cleopatra, the Queen. Her paleness, her starry and omnipotent gaze. Nothing more.

A monumental decision such as starting a family requires persuasive dissertations, licences, spreadsheets and field research. That's what I assumed until one night when we were lying in bed and, if I recall correctly, I asked Tracy if we were ready to have a family now, and she said sure. That was it.

I love crispy, cool sheets.

Because you may think a bed is a peaceful thing, Sir, and to you it may mean rest and comfort and a good night's sleep. But it isn't so for everyone; and there are many dangerous things that may take place in a bed.

There were still newspapers, then. We used to read them in bed. It's French, he said. From m'aidez . Help Me.

Four angels standing round my bed, Two to feet and two to head; One to watch and one to pray, And two to carry my soul away.

Nothing takes place in the bed but sleep; or no sleep. I try not to think too much. Like other things now, thought must be rationed. There's a lot that doesn't bear thinking about. Thinking can hurt your chances, and I intend to last.

Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

The queen was settling on the edge of the bed, ungainly with hesitation and at the same time exquisite in her grace, like a heron landing in a treetop.

Descartes spent far too much time in bed subject to the persistent hallucination that he was thinking. You are not free from a similar disorder.

We read in bed because reading is halfway between life and dreaming, our own consciousness in someone else's mind.

We read in bed because reading is halfway between life and dreaming

the master bedroom with the cherry chest at the foot of the bed that holds the television, which rises up out of the chest at the touch of a bedside button.

I lie in bed at night, after ending my prayers with the words 'Ich danke dir für all das Gute und Liebe und Schöne' (Thank you, God, for all that is good and dear and beautiful)

As I looked at the child on the bed, I forgot the language of guilt and recrimination.

I looked at the boy. I took up the candelabrum and I approached the bed and I looked down at him as he slept there, easy at last, breathing as though he was safe.

Oh, the thunder of ghosts and their aftermath. Let it distract me from Stirling Oliver in my lethal arms and the bloody bride lying on the bed.

Indeed, one's attachment to a man depends largely on the elegance of his leave-taking. When he jumps out of bed, scurries about the room, tightly fastens his trouser-sash, rolls up the sleeves of his Court cloak, over-robe, or hunting costume, stuffs his belongings into the breast of his robe and then briskly secures the outer sash—one really begins to hate him.

This ain't our marriage bed, but it'll do.