Best 4943 quotes in «sleep quotes» category

Why, when we regain consciousness, is it not an identity other than the one we had previously that is embodied in us? It is not clear what dictates the choice nor why, among the millions of human beings we might be, it is the being we were the day before that we unerringly grasp.

William awoke one morning to find that ― despite having no memory of it − he'd send a message to the Requisitions Department demanding ten thousand gallons of sleep (73% concentrate, with acetic acid stabilizer). The request had been rejected, but someone from Requisitions sent back a blanket and a pillow.

With belles no longer did he fall in love, but dangled after them just anyhow; when they refused, he solaced in a twinkle; when they betrayed, was glad to rest. He would seek them without intoxication, while he left them without regret, hardly remembering their love and spite. Exactly thus does an indifferent guest drive up for evening whist: sits down; then, once the game is over, he drives off from the place, at home falls peacefully asleep, and in the morning does not know himself where he will drive to in the evening.

With great power comes a great need to take a nap.

With lack of sleep and too much understanding I grow a little crazy, I think, like all men at sea who live too close to each other and too close thereby to all that is monstrous under the sun and moon.

With regard to sleep and waking, we must consider what they are: whether they are peculiar to soul or to body, or common to both; and if common, to what part of soul or body the appertain: further, from what cause it arises that they are atributes of animals, and whether all animals share in them both, or some partake of the one only, others of the other only, or some partake of neither and some of both.

With ravenous passion and reckless ambition he forged his thoughts into words, obsessed with the notion that dying would not be the last thing he would do.

Wouldn’t it have been better to conserve your strength and rest?” Ildiko mused after a moment. “I’ll sleep long and hard when I’m dead. You defy death by celebrating life.

Would you be my reason to wake up in the morning? Let's begin by you being the reason why I don't want to sleep.

Would you ever sleep with me?” he questioned once. “Never,” she’d replied, her large eyes shining in the bluish glow from his TV set, “but I love you… in a different way. I’ll always be loyal to you, I’ll never betray you, that’s how I love people.

Woven words are little conviction when I present myself as a man of fiction.

Write now, sleep later.

Woven words are little conviction when I present myself as a man of fiction. And you a woman of lies and deceit, stumbling forward on two left feet. You are an exquisite figurine of an incomprehensible place, While I, a soldier of my cause, my race. A single sip of you would satiate thirst, hunger and empty. Yet, you stand unmoved, comfortable knowing you could stave desires plenty. To my heart, you are known as 'shatter.' Between saint and sin, you are the latter. End, not even my finest words will matter. The still, the silence, even then, you are famine to my soul. My chest lacks certain weight now; I simply wish to be whole. Now, I stand before you broken, humbled and so bare, Only to see your infinite eyes brimming with no care. Your heart is a cauldron that burns darkest fuel. And I a remnant of smog, the overly-bitter fool. The man of fiction stumbles forward on two left feet, The woman of lies weaves words of conviction and deceit.

Yet something even more profound has happened in this ongoing story of later school start times - something that researchers did not anticipate: the life expectancy of students increased. The leading cause of death among teenagers is road traffic accidents, and in this regard, even the slightest dose of insufficient sleep can have marked consequences, as we have discussed. When the Mahotomedi School District of Minnesota pushed their school start time from 7:30 to 8:00 a.m., there was a 60 percent reduction in traffic accidents in drivers sixteen to eighteen years of age.

Yesterday, she shed tears, keeping her head on my shoulders. And I think she's not going to be fine because I know she won't. Because a couple of years back, I wasn't. And when you know that you've fallen hard on a cold ground and are still lying there, what do you tell others who are taking the fall? You close your eyes. You accept to lie there a little longer. But I lie on my bed now, and it's a little too warm today.

You are my first and last light, of my day and my night.

You ever sleep so hard... that when you wake up... you need another nap... just from sleeping so hard...

You are whole today, looking back at fragments of the past. Such a hollow foundation for such a powerful person.

You drool in your sleep- Annabeth Chase

You float through my days You wander through my dreams I am falling awake.

You have slept millions and millions of years. Why not wake up this morning?

You have no control over how your story begins or ends. But by now, you should know that all things have an ending. Every spark returns to darkness. Every sound returns to silence. Every flower returns to sleep with the earth. The journey of the sun and moon is predictable. But yours, is your ultimate art.

You know how sometimes when you're drifting off to sleep you feel that jolt, like you were falling and caught yourself at the last second? It's nothing to be concerned about, it's usually just the parasite adjusting its grip.

You have to choose whether to go to a restless sleep or to stay awake and fight for a blissful night rest.

You keep asking me about my past lovers and whether I still have feelings for them. You become upset when I don’t keep a straight face. Yet, it is not my fault. I can’t help but smile when I think about later tonight and how my fingers will through comb your hair.

You know… the airport is the only place you can walk around with no shoes, a glazed look on your face, and sleep on the benches and no one judges you.

You may think there's nothing very interesting about seeing someone sleep, but that probably means you've never found the girl of your dreams.

You never know how much you truly appreciate sleep until it’s snatched away from you.

You must be more alive than life. You must see darkness dance and hear silence sing. You must be more awake than light for we aren’t born sleeping and we shouldn’t live sleeping. Only then will death’s slumber become sweet.

You need your rest to feel your best!

Your clock cannot buy you more time, your bed cannot get you more sleep, your titles cannot acquire you more influence, your fame cannot gain you more honor, and your money cannot earn you more happiness.

Your brain needs plenty of rest to function at it's optimal level. Go to sleep!

Your previous accomplishments should be your stepping stones; you need them to jump up. They should not become beds that should keep you comfortably sleeping.

You're kidding, right?" Shane asked. "You don't need caffeine. You need sleep." He held out the last cup, and Claire realized she'd been wrong; there was someone else in the shadows. Deeper in the shadows even than Oliver had been. Myrnin. He looked completely different to her now, and not just because he wasn't crazy anymore. He'd remembered how to dress himself, for one thing; gone were the costume coats and Mardi Gras beads and flip-flops. He had on a gray knit shirt, black pants, and a jacket that looked a bit out of period, but not as much as before. All clean. He even had shoes on. "Yes, you must sleep," he agreed, as he accepted the cup and tried the coffee. "I've gone to far too much trouble to train up another apprentice at this late date. We have work to do, Claire. Good, hard work. Some of it may even earn you accolades, once you leave Morganville." She smiled slowly. "You'll never let me leave." Myrnin's dark eyes fixed on hers. "Maybe I will," he said. "But you must give me at least a few more years, my friend. I have a great deal to learn from you, and I am a very slow learner.

You talk; I'll sleep. feel free to make up my side of the conversation in case you get bored. I recommend throwing in the occasional 'fuck you' on my behalf, just to keep things true to life.

You smile and draw me near and whisper, "Do as dreamers do." I lean to you and whisper in your ear, "I cannot dream tonight my Dear. For it is you.

A baby was sleeping, Its mother was weeping.

A baby's existence for the first three months is a one-way street. One person is doing all the work and the other is crying, sleeping and pooping. So the first moment when you're actually able to do something and they acknowledge your presence, that's a big deal. A very big deal.

A baby who cannot relax can be helped to do so by a variety of constant rhythmical stimuli. it will work if the trouble is some kind of general and diffuse irritability or tenseness which is preventing a tired baby relaxing into sleep. The burring sound of a fan or heater works excellently. So does the sound of a car engine.

A barking dog is often more useful than a sleeping lion.

A bedroom is just as nice as whoever sleeps in it with you.

You want to stay here and sleep your life away? That's it?" "If you knew what would make you happy, wouldn't you do it?" I asked her. "See, you do want to be happy. Then why did you tell me that being happy is dumb?" she asked. "You said that to me more than once." "Let me be dumb," I said, glugging the NyQuil. "You go be smart and tell me how great it is. I'll be here, hibernating." Reva rolled her eyes. "It's natural," I told her. "People used to hibernate all the time." "People never hibernated. Where are you getting this?" She could look really pathetic when she was outraged. She got up and stood there holding her stupid knockoff Kate Spade bag or whatever it was, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and crowned with a useless, plastic, tortoiseshell headband. She was always getting her hair blown out, her eyebrows waxed into thin, arched, parentheses, her fingernails painted various shades of pink and purple, as though all of this made her a wonderful person. "It's not up for discussion, Reva. This is what I'm doing. If you can't accept it, then you don't have to.

You will never be rewarded for the dreams you slept over day in day out. You will be rewarded for dreams you stay awake and achieved.

A bad boyfriend is someone you give everything to - you live with him, cook for him, sleep with him - thinking he is going to marry you and then he doesn't. When you are giving your all to a job and not getting credit, your job is a bad boyfriend.

Abiding in Jesus isn't fixing our attention on Christ, but it is being one with Him... A man is abiding just as much when he is sleeping for Jesus, as when he is awake and working for Jesus. Oh, it is a very sweet thing to have one's mind just resting there.

About 2500 years ago Aeschylus, the Greek playwright, wrote, He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God. These remarkable photos and the stories that accompany them should be on billboards from sea to shining sea, so the pain and suffering they represent might fall drop by drop upon the American psyche and against our will, by the awful grace of God, wisdom might come to these United States and her foreign policy.

About five years ago, I fainted from exhaustion. I hit my head on my desk. I broke my cheekbone and got four stitches on my right eye. It started me on this journey of rediscovering sleep and balance and integrating my life. I think everyone should stop and reassess their lives before you hit your head on your desk.

A boy spends his time finding a girl to sleep with. A real man spends his time looking for the one worth waking up to.

A candy coloured clown they call the sandman Tiptoes into my room every night Just to sprinkle stardust and whisper; "Go to sleep, everything is alright

Acceptable food rots while we are chased from bins behind restaurants, chased from sleeping on the street, chased from relieving ourselves unless we pay for food or gas, until finally we are so hungry, sleepless, smelly, constipated and beaten-down that we simply die of lack of will to live.