Quotes About Rest

CHAPTER I: DISCUSSION AND BED

Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet prince; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death!

O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?

And sleep, that sometime shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company.

How does your patient, doctor? Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from rest. Macbeth: Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon her heart. Doctor: Therein the patient must minister to himself.

If all the year were playing holidays; To sport would be as tedious as to work.

Why should we rise because 'tis light? Did we lie down because t'was night?

Innocent sleep. Sleep that soothes away all our worries. Sleep that puts each day to rest. Sleep that relieves the weary laborer and heals hurt minds. Sleep, the main course in life's feast, and the most nourishing.

La vida es mi tortura y la muerte será mi descanso.

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. -Sonnet 73

Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.

And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

Where the bee sucks, there suck I In the cow-slip's bell i lie There I couch when owls do cry

There is plenty of time to sleep in the grave

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest, Secure from worldly chances and mishaps! Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms, No noise, but silence and eternal sleep: In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!

Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. Julius Caesar (2.1.248-251)

And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.

Now my soul's palace is become a prison; Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body Might in the ground be closed up in rest! For never henceforth shall I joy again, Never, O never, shall I see more joy!

he that drinks all night, and is hanged betimes in the morning, may sleep the sounder all the next day.

But since the affairs of men rest still incertain, Let's reason with the worst that may befall.

The More I Rest The More I Go In VAIN

For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of Is come unto me. I was not in safety, neither had I rest, neither was I quiet; yet trouble came. —Job

Rest and be thankful.