Best 4943 quotes in «sleep quotes» category

Then at once they reached and hovered upon the imminent verge of sleep - but an intruder came, now, that would not "down". It was conscience. They began to feel a vague fear that they had been doing wrong to run away; and next they thought of the stolen meat, and then the real torture came [...] So they inwardly resolved that so long as they remained in the business, their piracies should not again be sullied with the crime of stealing. Then conscience granted a truce, and these curiously inconsistent pirates fell peacefully to sleep.

Then all was quiet save only for the low voices of those that talked together, ... , and saving, also, for the mellow snoring of Friar Tuck, who enjoyed his sleep with a noise as of one sawing soft wood very slowly.

The next morning, Malcolm thought long and hard before waking up, for he had come to recognise over the past quarter of a century that rather less can go wrong if you are asleep.

Then he kept to the back streets, and found a place that did a very reasonable double sausage, egg, bacon and fried slice, in the hope that food could replace sleep.

Then his head tipped down on his chest and he fell into the instant sleep of the ancient and the very young.

The night too gave up but my eyes did not find sleep!

The noise of the world is so terrible that we can endure it only by being coated with sleep.

Then perhaps you shouldn't sleep. The imagination has terrifying power.

Then there was Mani, the Mighty Good-For-Nothing. He towered above all the other boys of the class. He seldom brought any books to the class, and never bothered about homework. He came to the class, monopolized the last bench, ans slept bravely. No teacher ever tried to prod him.

The old sleep poorly. Perhaps they stand watch.

The one thing you shouldn't be left alone with at night, is your own thoughts. They eat you alive until the next morning

The paint is drying, and time is dying. The pain is crying, lying on my back, trying to get back the time, to brushstrokes too fast, wet went dry and love went dull; now I live in a portrait I never painted.

The paradoxical situation with a vast number of people today is that they are half asleep when awake, and half awake when asleep, or when they want to sleep.

The problem is that people can't sleep when they want to, but if they are forbidden to do so, they can't help dropping off. So the method consisted of keeping your eyes wide open and fixing your gaze on some point of the bedroom wall. If by any chance you shut your eyes, hundreds of nasty little demons would pour out of the spot and eat you up. And you are absolutely not allowed to treat this as a joke.. According to Marc, you invariably fall asleep after ten minutes max, unless of course you replace the little devils with little fairies, which would stop you falling asleep at all.

The rain is, in a sense, The sole sad friend of those who find themselves Thinking, wide awake, until the dawn, Who, in bed, alone, with fevered hands, Listen to it, soothed. They like the company Of its faint moan across the sleeping plain, Its rustling in the garden all night long. - On the Great Grey Road (Sur ce Grand Chemin Gris...)

There are many ways a self-respecting (not to mention sane) teenage girl might react to having a teenage boy suddenly in her bedroom in the middle of the night. Hit. Panic. Flail. Freeze.

There are the people of the day, and the creatures of the night. And it's important to remember that the creatures of the night aren't simply the people of the day staying up late because they think that makes them cool and interesting. It takes more than heavy mascara and a pale complexion to cross the divide.

There are really two essential things in campaigning. First, you must be in good humor. If you're going to be a raffle, you are to stay home. Second, you are to make sense in your speeches. These aren't the two things you must do. Unless you're saying, if you can be in good humor when you're exhausted. – Henry Cabot Lodge

There are two gradations of cold that are always acceptable: Mild Frost, which is preferable for reading and writing and any other activity done indoors, and Absolute Zero, which is the only temperature suitable for sleep. There is nothing more delicious than being swathed in a cocoon of blankets and awaking with a nose frosted over with rime, and once I do achieve vampiric heights and fall asleep with the mastery of a corpse lately dead, I am best left alone until I wake up at my usual time. I do tend to bite when rattled out of my flocculent coffin, and everyone in my building knows never to disturb me during the early morning hours. Authors, being crepuscular creatures, should never be roused before 11am: the creative mind is never turned off; it only dies momentarily and its revived by the scent of coffee at the proper time. Bacon is also an acceptable restorative.

There are times when you wake at dawn and check your neck for the marks of the vampire, those two little red dots, your pupils still contracted with hate, muscles weary from the struggle.

There is a kind of sleep that steals upon us sometimes, which, while it holds the body prisoner, does not free the mind from a sense of things about it, and enable it to ramble at its pleasure. So far as an overpowering heaviness, a prostration of strength, and an utter inability to control our thoughts or power of motion, can be called sleep, this is it; and yet we have a consciousness of all that is going on about us; and if we dream at such a time, words which are really spoken, or sounds which really exist at the moment, accommodate themselves with surprising readiness to our visions, until reality and imagination become so strangely blended that it is afterwards almost a matter of impossibilty to separate the two. Nor is this, the most striking phenomenon, incidental to such a state. It is an undoubted fact, that although our senses of touch and sight be for the time dead, yet our sleeping thoughts, and the visionary scenes that pass before us, will be influenced, and materially influenced, by the mere silent presence of some external object: which may not have been near us when we closed our eyes: and of whose vicinity we have had no waking consciousness.

there is some aching that will only heal... in the mosque of sleep.

There is an inner beauty about a woman who believes in herself, who knows she is capable of anything that she puts her mind to. There is a beauty in the strength and determination of a woman who follows her own path, who isnt thrown off by obstacles along the way. There is a beauty about a woman whose confidence comes from experiences; who knows she can fall, pick herself up, and move on.

There is another connection between infancy and dreams: both are followed by amnesia. When we emerge from either state, we have great difficulty remembering what we have experienced. In both cases, I would suggest, the left hemisphere of the neocortex, which is responsible for analytic recollection, has been functioning ineffectively.

There is time for everything; a time to MAKE the BEST and a time to TAKE a REST...

There were days when I still put on make up in case you’d come back, but I wear the same clothes and shower in the rain and eat when I can and sleep when I can, which is rare and not often, so if you’d see me now on these streets where I once imagined walking with you you’d have a hard time recognising me. I takes a lot to run away.

There’s an infant part in our souls which longs for the lullaby truths of life every night for a tranquil slumber.

There was no monitoring of sleep in very high altitude workers that were sleeping at 9,200 feet. No warnings were given about high altitude induced sleep disorders.

There was the focus of seeking pleasure, and the numbing effect, once they were finished, removing all specific thoughts from her brain. It ushered in the solid, dreamless sleep that otherwise eluded her.

There will be stars over the place forever; Though the house we loved and the street we loved are lost, Every time the earth circles her orbit On the night the autumn equinox is crossed, Two stars we knew, poised on the peak of midnight Will reach their zenith; stillness will be deep; There will be stars over the place forever, There will be stars forever, while we sleep.

THERE'S NO REASON TO SLEEP CURLED UP AND BENT. IT'S NOT COMFORTABLE, IT'S NOT GOOD FOR YOU, AND IT DOESN'T PROTECT YOU FROM DANGER. IF YOU'RE WORRIED ABOUT AN ATTACK YOU SHOULD STAY AWAKE OR SLEEP LIGHTLY WITH LIMBS UNFURLED FOR ACTION.

There was no opiate like a French pillow.

There will always be that one person we dream of, even if we do not sleep.

The scribbles in my notebook are a reflection of you. Every line holds your name. Every paragraph a feature of yours I love. Each page is a memory of moments that took my breath away. Of times when I laughed more than my lungs would allow. My notebook is full, but I always knew only one would hardly contain all of you.

The secret to creating a five-star sleeping environment is about using your five senses.

These places I traveled through, they were a lot like the people I knew. Some abodes I muddled about for a day or two, others entertained my thoughts for a year or a few. Each place and person gave me wisdom or growth, and, if I was lucky, sometimes I'd get both.

The Self Care Formula is simple-NITO(5R). Nutrients In & Toxins Out in the 5 Realms (Mental, Emotional, Physical, Environmental, Spiritual).

the shorter your sleep, the shorter your life span

...the simple task of getting dressed and undressed was a real strain, but nothing could compare with her addiction to deep sleep...

The sleeper turns his back on everyone.

The sleeping style of each organism is exquisitely adapted to the ecology of the animal. It is conceivable that animals who are too stupid to be quiet on their own initiative are, during periods of high risk, immobilized by the implacable arm of sleep.

The sleep he went back to was never the one he left.

The soul of the just contemplates in sleep a mysterious heaven.

The Soul that sits within is ready to give everything, but not even for a moment has one had the faith 'I won't ever have any problems'. If this faith is ever established, there will be no problems. All this is like the priest saying, 'God is asleep'. Would God ever sleep? But then one loses all confidence. God is constantly aware and resides within. It is possible to attain whatever energies you want by asking for them.

The speed of time varied, fast or slow, depending on the depth of my sleep. My favorite days were the ones that barely registered.

The stars, like candlelights of the angels, chose not to hide that night, and watched over our uncertain sleep.

The storm only grew stronger. Walls of facets became flooded with cracks, the tumultuous gale escaped through the smallest crevice. With her arms spread wide and all her muscles hard and taunt, she broke free from the chrysalis, letting loose her new wings and that mighty storm. I thought it was over, but I was wrong. She spread her wings and sang her song. She rode upon the howl of wind until she was gone.

The sun was up, the room already too warm. Light filtered in through the net curtains, hanging suspended in the air, sediment in a pond. My head felt like a sack of pulp. Still in my nightgown, damp from some fright I'd pushed aside like foliage, I pulled myself up and out of my tangled bed, then forced myself through the usual dawn rituals - the ceremonies we perform to make ourselves look sane and acceptable to other people. The hair must be smoothed down after whatever apparitions have made it stand on end during the night, the expression of staring disbelief washed from the eyes. The teeth brushed, such as they are. God knows what bones I'd been gnawing in my sleep.

The sun has gone To bed and so must I

The sweet sleep ended abruptly. Someone pried the door open, throwing light and voices carelessly, urgently, voices that alarmed me, voices that mark the line dividing my life in two, before and now.