Quotes About Waking

I'm supposed to sleep at three o'clock in the morning"—is that true? I don't think so: I'm wide awake. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I get very excited. What could be better than sleep? Waking! I love lying in bed in the middle of the night with my eyes wide open, because that's what I'm doing. There's no thought that I should be doing anything else. I love all my thoughts.

There should be a word for that brief period just after waking when the mind is full of warm pink nothing. You lie there entirely empty of thought, except for a growing suspicion that heading towards you, like a sockful of damp sand in a nocturnal alleyway, are all the recollections you'd really rather do without, and which amount to the fact that the only mitigating factor in your horrible future is the certainty that it will be quite short.

The shields were enormous. In 'Julius Caesar,' I died early in the scene and used to fall asleep under the shield until I was woken up by applause.

If there was one thing that he hated more than another it was the way she had of waking him in the morning. She did it on purpose, of course. It was her way of establishing her grievance for the day.

I wake up laughing. Yes, I wake up in the morning and there I am just laughing my head off.

The contemplation of the Dark Ages affords a powerful criticism of that superficial theory of social evolution which is among the intellectual plagues of our own generation. Much more is the story of Europe like the waking and the sleeping of a mature man, than like any indefinite increase in the aptitudes and powers of a growing body.

The sun woke me up the next morning. I sat up and groaned. My clothes were full of sand.

This commonplace cycle of falling asleep and waking, in darkness, under private cover, with another creature, a pale soft tender mammal, putting faces together in a ritual of affection, briefly settled in the eternal necessities of warmth, comfort, safety, crossing limbs to draw nearer - a simple daily consolation, almost too obvious, easy to forget by daylight.

By understanding the meaning of common dreams, you can identify issues that want your attention in your waking life.

I could write to you, because everything I wanted to say was forbidden. You haunted my dreams, my every waking moment.

About 10 minutes ago, we all woke up because of this strange roaring sound. We all raced toward the sound, which turned out to be the washing machine going back on. Who knew the rinse cycle could be so scary?

Remember the impossible eventful ness of time, transformation and emotion packed like gunpowder into the barrel. Remember the dilation and diffusion, the years within days. Theirs were endless; lives flowers and died between waking and noon.

I use a progressive alarm that makes a soft sound at first and then progressively gets louder. But I usually wake on the first sound, so it doesn't disturb my wife. When I used a loud alarm clock, I was more likely to hit it on the head and go back to sleep.

i just stopped from dreaming and woke up, just like a dream to be loved back is just a dream you have to accept, it was just glimpse of hopes you wanna take it to reality, nothing more, nothing less

Today I fear that we are in fact waking up to a surveillance society that is already all around us. —Richard Thomas, U.K. information commissioner, November 2006

Steven awoke to his alarm ringing at seven a.m. Waking up, the first disappointment of every day, was as usual followed by its faithful friend, dread.

I woke up and heard the lambs screaming. I woke up in the dark and the lambs were screaming.

But he discovered that his thoughts and inspirations were like the intimations of a dream, which always seem inspired at the time but prove utterly shallow and useless to the waking mind.

For the birds there is not a time that they tell, but the point vierge between darkness and light, between being and nonbeing. You can tell yourself the time by their waking, if you are experienced. But that is your folly, not theirs.

Overbearing parents was one thing; waking up to a drunk uncle mistaking you for the toilet was another.

Memory, which so confounds our waking life with anticipation and regret, may well be our one earthly consolation when time slips out of joint.

But Mole stood still a moment, held in thought. As one wakened suddenly from a beautiful dream, who struggles to recall it, but can recapture nothing but a dim sense of the beauty in it, the beauty! Till that, too, fades away in its turn, and the dreamer bitterly accepts the hard, cold waking and all its penalties.

In my experience, this analysis is spot-on. If you give your mind something meaningful to do throughout all your waking hours, you'll end the day more fulfilled, and begin the next one more relaxed, than if you instead allow your mind to bathe for hours in semiconscious and unstructured Web surfing.

FLIGHT (excerpt) You slid into the summer of my sleeping, crept into my lonely hours, ate the music of my dreams. … It is the time of the waking cold, when buckeyes, Like a thousand thousand metronomes, take time, and you, fat on my summer sleep, twitter toward me, walk away. It is the time for the parting of our days.