Quotes About Sleeplessness

Everyone is sleeping while she remains awake and leaves reminders on her body of how much she hates herself.

I don't sleep. I hate those little slices of death.

C.S. Lewis had come to demand of his nightly prayers a realization, a certain vividness of the imagination and the affectations – a sure recipe for sleeplessness and misery.

That night I was alone in my room with the lights off. The radio was on and I was staring at the ceiling. I couldn't sleep much at night anymore because that was when the hollow, empty feeling was the worst. At night there's nothing to hold your mind to the earth, and you spend the entire time falling into an abyss. The only cure is the rising of the sun.

That night I couldn't sleep at all. Mozart had shown me immortal light, and I now felt as though I were under direct orders from Mozart. He expressed his sadness not only with the minor scale but with the major scale as well.

I could have told him more, of the dreams that left me bleary and bloodshot, the almost-screams that scraped my throat as I swallowed them down. The way the stars turned and turned through the night above my unsleeping eyes.

Reading is the occupation of the insomniac par excellence.

He imagined himself lying there, unable to sleep, thinking of his mother, separated from her by the unresponsive blankets tucked too tightly round him, feeling the ceaseless thumping of his heart in the silence of the night, the irrevocability of absence, the rigid stillness of repose, the agony of solitude and sleeplessness. If the room was a prison, the bed was a tomb.

Life is something to do when you can't get to sleep.

At night, I can't sleep. In the morning, I can't wake up.

The main problem of living in the city that never sleeps that neither did I.

We haven't slept in years. This is an advantage of menopause. Some nights, we meet for coffee at 4:00 a.m.

It's four A.M.! Who goes to bed this early!?

When I can't sleep, I read a book by Steve Allen.

All I want is some man to take delight in me. 5:30? 6:30 A.M. as usual, no cigs. Better a maudlin drunk than a sterile one. My pimples are more like small boils; I have the plague. My lip is split. My tits are swollen and I can't ever sleep. I now breathe with my heart, which skips rope. Back to sex?

When I can't sleep, every wrong I've ever committed slips in through the cracks in the doors and windows like the ghosts in Poltergeist.

Oh, law! This morning I look one day older than God and a year younger than water! Last night I didn't close my eyes. At five o'clock this morning I was still awake in my bed, turning and tossing and thinking about Big D." "Dallas?" "Dying, precious—Big D is death.

The worst things: To be in bed and sleep not, To want for one who comes not, To try to please and please not.

Geceyi söndür kalbim / Geceler de gençlik gibi eskidendi / ?imdi uykusuzluk vakti…

I lay awake for the balance of the night letting my dream shatter into indecipherable pieces the way dreams do.

Or they might struggle with agitation, hyperactivity, nightmares or sleeplessness. Such symptoms can try one's patience, especially when caregivers don't have a clue what is causing their child to behave in such unpredictable and disturbing ways.

On the night before Herod was to bring him to trial, Peter was sleeping between two soldiers, bound with two chains, with sentries standing guard at the entrance to the prison.