Quotes About Rest

You know, once you have the belt you want to be less active, fighting once a year.

I'm just taking it one day at a time. Actually, one night at a time. I'm not usually up during the day.

The only time I don't work is when I am asleep.

There's something about the openness of the American people. Yes, we have our faults, but deep down, there's a goodness. America doesn't want to take over the world; in many ways, we don't want to be bothered by the rest of the world.

The favorite thing I like to do is nothing. I'm such an expert at doing nothing. I have a boat. I make training films for the Coast Guard. I listen to a great deal of opera.

It is pure unadulterated country life. They get up early because they have so much to do, and go to bed early, because they have so little to think about.

She is at rest. Peace, peace, she cannot hear, Lyre or sonnet, All my life's buried here, Heap earth upon it.

And Sleep will not lie down, but walks Wild-eyed and cries to Time.

Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?

The rest night knows, and we, and the tower that sees, and the light that showed me a path through the sea.

Wovon man nicht handeln kann, darüber muss man faulenzen. Whereof one cannot act, thereof one must be lazy.

I stared at myself in the mirror. Okay, just ugh. I had to get some sleep tonight - the bags under my eyes had bags.

You go away and have a nice cup of hot tea,' said the agent, soothingly, 'and you'll be as right as anything in the morning.

Much has been written on the subject of bed-books. The general consensus of opinion is that a gentle, slow-moving story makes the best opiate

As two-seaters go, I had always found mine fairly comfortable, but then I had never before tried to get the eight hours in it, and you would be surprised at the number of knobs and protuberances which seem suddenly to sprout out of a car's upholstery when you seek to convert it into a bed.

I should like to sleep like a cat, with all the fur of time, with a tongue rough as flint, with the dry sex of fire; and after speaking to no one, stretch myself over the world, over roofs and landscapes, with a passionate desire to hunt the rats in my dreams.

They might get through work but they go home and sleep

My soul found ease and rest in the companionship of books.

I was afforded a glimpse of the marsh at ease, a glimpse of the land at rest from the penetration and mindless barbarisms of man.

I was suddenly exhausted, depleted down to the very center of the soul, and I rested my head on the back of the chair, closing my eyes and trying to clear my mind.

She was a sweet, warm wind in my heart, a resting place, a place of peace where I could forget so many things . . .

That sleep that has no language, No dream, No time, No end.

I was seeing what a writer can do with the tatters of truth, the unfinished stories that give us no rest.

It is rest to the weary, daylight to the discouraged, sunshine to the sad, and Nature's best antidote for trouble.