Quotes About Rest

Don't worry, better days are coming. They are called Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

My bed wasn't feeling well this morning, so I had to stay home to take care of it.

Without Sunday, I wouldn't know when to put on the brakes of a hurtling life.

"Work hard, nap hard."

I have never in my life found myself in a situation where I've stopped work and said, 'Thank God it's Friday.' But weekends are special even if your schedule is all over the place. Something tells you the weekend has arrived and you can indulge yourself a bit.

Happiness is waking up, looking at the clock, and finding that you still have two hours left to sleep.

Life is all about balance. You don't always need to be getting stuff done. Sometimes it's perfectly okey, and absolutely necessary, to shut down, kick back, and do nothing.

Summer is the annual permission slip to be lazy. To do nothing and have it count for something. To lie in the grass and count the stars. To sit on a branch and study the clouds.

The madness of spring is so enticing. I love it when things are opening up and emerging from the ground. I also love the middle of summer when fruit is bursting forth, but I even love the garden in the winter when everything is resting.

Man should forget his anger before he lies down to sleep.

Middle age is when it takes longer to rest than to get tired.

How blest is he who crowns in shades like these A youth of labour with an age of ease!

It's amazing when you get to a certain age, and you talk about sleep in the same way you spoke about getting inebriated... I got eight hours last night. It was fantastic!

I don't generally feel anything until noon then it's time for my nap.

I like to be left alone when I'm not working.

It's amazing what sleep does for your looks.

Let tomorrow come tomorrow. Not by your will is the house carried through the night. Order is only the possibility of rest.

That one is sometimes able, among the disturbances of the present world, to wander into some good and beautiful whereabouts of the woods, grow quiet, and come to rest is a gift, a wonder, and a kind of grace.

It was a pretty place, its prettiness not so much made as allowed. It was a place of work, but a place too of order and rest, where work was done in a condition of acknowledged blessedness and of gratitude.

He nearly always seems steady, reined pretty tight. But it's no trouble to look at him now and see that it has been a long time since he has been at rest in himself.

One of the best things you can do in this world is take a nap in the woods.

However interesting and lovely my days were, I could get from one day to the next only by passing through a night. I have, it is true, known lovely nights here; nights of sound sleep and good dreams and nights made wakeful by happy thoughts. but I have not always been a good sleeper, and my thoughts at night have sometimes been far from happy.

The conflicts of life and work, like those of rest and work, would ideally be resolved in balance: enough of each. In practice, however they probably can be resolved (if that is the word) only in tension, in a principled unwillingness to let go of either or to sacrifice either to the other. But it is a necessary tension, the grief in it both inescapable and necessary.

And in the fields and the town, walking, standing, or sitting under the trees, resting and talking together in the peace of a sabbath profound and bright, are people of such beauty that he weeps to see them. He sees that these are the membership of one another and of the place and of the song or light in which they live and move.