Quotes About Sleepers

In the room...they are inside the books. They move sometimes within the pages, like sleepers turning over between two dreams.

What was a prisoner of war anyway? Less than a man, just material to be used to make the railway, like the teak sleepers and steel rails and dog spikes.

If parents had children who were good sleepers, they assumed this was due to their good parenting, not good luck.

Insofar as poetry has a social function it is to awaken sleepers by other means than shock.

Heroes and fast sleepers, then, can switch off their thoughts when necessary. Cowards and insomniacs, my people, are plagued by babble on the brain.

I do not believe that a violent imitation of the horrors of our times is the concern of poetry. Horrors are taken for granted. Disorder is ordinary. People in general take more and more 'in their stride'--hides grow thicker. I long for poems of an inner harmony in utter contrast to the chaos in which they exist. Insofar as poetry has a social function, it is to awaken sleepers by other means than shock.

But occasionally, someone will climb the hill, someone who has lost a husband or a child, someone who has somehow learned the secrets of sleepers, of the presence of a portal

And wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.

Please show them to the dreamless sleepers that we may reawaken and welcome them back into our company," said Golgoth.

Lies often fly in suited and booted style whereas truth usually walks in sleepers.

Altered is Zarathustra; a child hath Zarathustra become; an awakened one is Zarathustra: what wilt thou do in the land of the sleepers?

A bowshot down the slope of winter-brown grass and broken snow, beyond the dead campfires and the sleepers cocooned in whatever covering they had been able to find, green-robed spruce and white-limbed birch stirred in a dawn wind that repeated - once only - the blessing she had received.

Then know, he returned, and his voice was stern, that thou who callest thyself alive, hast brought into this chamber the odours of death, and its air will not be wholesome for the sleepers until thou art gone from it!

I should like to understand what really goes on in the souls of plongeurs and tramps and Embankment sleepers. At present I do not feel that I have seen more than the fringe of poverty.

Even sleepers are workers and collaborators in what goes on in the Universe.

COME AWAY, dreamer, come away. Soon you will witness things that only sleepers and sorcerers can see. Climb onto the wind and let it bear you—yes, it is a swift and frightening steed, but there are leagues and leagues to journey and the night is short.

Did you ever think what those sleepers are that underlie the railroad? Each one is a man, an Irishman, or a Yankee man. The rails are laid on them, and they are covered with sand, and the cars run smoothly over them. They are sound sleepers, I assure you. And every few years a new lot is laid down and run over; so that, if some have the pleasure of riding on a rail, others have the misfortune to be ridden upon.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'dAnd the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still

Well at ease are the Sleepers for whom Existence is a shallow Dream.

The grey nurse resumed her knitting as Peter Walsh, on the hot seat beside her, began snoring. In her grey dress, moving her hands indefatigably yet quietly, she seemed like the champion of the rights of sleepers, like one of those spectral presences which rise in twilight in woods made of sky and branches.

A mist still lay all about the walls and floors, hovering like a last breath on the lips of all the sleepers. As he walked through the castle, he marveled at how many lay asleep: the good people, the not-so-good, the young people and the not-so-young, and not one of them stirring. Not one.

the mysterious morning stillness of hall and staircase. Who were the sleepers hidden in the upper regions? Let the house reveal its own secrets; and, one by one

The houses that trouble me most are the ones with a lamp on all night and people living inside. I don't look at those lamps and think what a waste of electricity or money they are. It's another waste I see. For every watt that shines in the darkness, I see restless sleepers drifting further and further from their souls.

Even sleepers are workers and collaborators on what goes on in the universe.