Quotes About Bedtime

I couldn't make any judgment on the Summa, except to say this: I read it for about twenty minutes every night before I go to bed. If my mother were to come in during this process and say, 'Turn off that light. It's late,' I with a lifted finger and broad bland beatific expression, would reply, 'On the contrary, I answer that the light, being eternal and limitless, cannot be turned off. Shut your eyes,' or some such thing.

We read to our kids at bedtime because we want to have literacy, but what are we doing to make sure kids are equally fascinated by science?

When I was very little my mother would read to me in bed. She gave me a fascination for stories, and for the music in words.

My grandmother, Amalia Pia Emilia Vignola, whom I called Nonna, brought out the fairy tale in everything. She used to tuck me into bed so vigorously that I never felt anything less than comforted, and then afterwards, she would sit on a cane basket box next to my bed and read Hans Christian Andersen to me.

I'm not great at bedtime stories. Bedtime stories are supposed to put the kid to sleep. My kid gets riled up and then my wife has to come in and go, 'All right! Get out of the room.'

It was all over by nine o'clock and with good night kisses for everyone, the little girls climbed up to bed laden with treasures and too happy for many words. But as they tied their round caps Dolly said, thoughtfully: "On the whole, I think it's rather nice to be poor when people are kind to you.

I don't look at screens for two hours before I go to bed,

The best moments in my life are just before going to bed. Those are my happiest moments.

It is a very funny thing that the sleepier you are, the longer you take about getting to bed.

I ran up the door, opened the stairs, said my pajamas and put on my prayers — turned off my bed, tumbled into my light, and all because he kissed me good-night!

Come, let's to bed,Says Sleepyhead;Tarry awhile, says Slow;Put on the pot,Says Greedy-gut,We'll sup before we go.

Here comes a candle to light you to bed,Here comes a chopper to chop off your head.

For most people bedtime was early, although Cicero admitted to writing speeches or books and reading papers at night (there was a Latin word for it, lucubrare—to work by lamplight).

I hear it still. As I lay down my pen and take to my bed, I am aware of the bow being drawn across the bridge and the music rises into the night sky. It is far away and barely audible - but there it is! A pizzicato. Then a tremelo. The style is unmistakable. It is Sherlock Holmes who is playing. It must be. I hope with all my heart that he is playing for me . . .

Harvey and I grew up in Queens, N.Y. My brother and I shared a room for 18 years until we went away to college. When we were kids, after our father said, 'Lights out,' he also exclaimed, 'No more talking. Time for sleep.' But we'd stay up late, arguing over statistics, who the best center fielder was - Willie Mays or Mickey Mantle.

I always stretch after working out or training and then again before going to sleep. It keeps the muscles healthy and useful, reduces risk of injuries, and is a great way to wind down.

When I was 5 years old, my mother read me 'Gone With The Wind' at night, before I went to bed. I remember her reading almost all year.

Since I was a child, I've gone to bed when things get too much. As a result, I have more trouble winding up than winding down in the morning. I need a second cup of coffee and then I potter around in a disgusting white towelling dressing gown for as long as possible.

I have a half an hour window that if I don't go to sleep in that time frame I am up all night.

When I'm out, I like a glass of red wine. Just before bed, I'll always have a chamomile tea.

I try to be in bed by 11. Sometimes I watch a 'West Wing' rerun. That relaxes me.

I asked my wife, "Last night, were you faking it?" She said, "No, I was really sleeping.

The trees were having a last bedtime drink of the great waters that flowed along down there. Like him, before they went to sleep. Beneath that layer of water he sensed beings. They moved so slowly that humans were usually not aware of their existence. But he did feel their movements down in those regions. And yet deeper, far deeper, below those beings, there was the fire of creation, which had been buried at the center of the earth by stars.

I'd be in such a hurry to get into bed, nice and quiet, and imagine things