Best 4943 quotes in «sleep quotes» category

Eat healthily, sleep well, breathe deeply, move harmoniously.

Emily woke to shadows and their voices. They looked different today, because the entire world hurt. The numbness had worn off sometime between sleep and awake, and she was seeing red. The shadows on the walls were not shadows at all, but red blobs consisting of teeth and claws. Her house reeked of pain. The whole world was fucking bleeding.

Emergency Rooms ... were the nightmares your nightmares had while they slept.

ENDURANCE I don't know you, But I love you, Just as God loves me and you. The sun and the moon Are opposing forces, But they still greet each other, Peacefully, As one awakens in the morning, Just as the other goes to sleep. Life has pounded me down And thrashed me around, Time and time again, But I always get right back up, Because I still love life - Just as the earth still loves The rain.

Ever thought, that the only thing a man can do for ten/twelve hours a day is work. He can't eat for ten hours; he can't drink for ten hours; he can't make love for ten hours. The only thing a man can do for ten hours is ‪#‎work‬.

Every decision, every single one, comes with a price to pay. It means you chose one thing over another, always. Whether you chose right or wrong, that cost remains constant. It's a permanent life tax. That's where taxes come from.

Every day, I want to sleep in your arms and wake up by your side in the mornings.

Every morning I tell myself, "I'll sleep early tonight." And every night I say, "One more chapter.

Everyone else reached the Shores of Sleep, but I remained oceans away.

Everyone is their own, though they are so alone. They all sit on their imagined thrones, made only of their own bones. Ego and pride make exquisite delusional cushions.

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.

Every part of me is attuned to the work. I soak it up to my pores during the day, and at night - in the moments before I pass off into sleep - ideas explode into my head like fireworks.

Every struggle you have known has shaped and made you the person you are. Be thankful that you are stronger today.

Every time I go to sleep, I know I may never wake up. How could anyone expect to? You drop your tiny, helpless mind into a bottomless well, crossing your fingers and hoping that when you pull it out on its flimsy fishing wire it hasn't been gnawed to bones by nameless beast below. Hoping you pull up anything at all. Maybe this is why I only sleep a few hours a month. I don't want to die again. This has become clearer and clearer to me recently, a desire so sharp and focused I can hardly believe it's mine: I don't want to die. I don't want to disappear. I want to stay.

Every time I go to sleep, I know I may never wake up. How could anyone expect to? You drop your tiny, helpless mind into a bottomless well, crossing your fingers and hoping that when you pull it out on its flimsy fishing wire it hasn't been gnawed to bones by the beasts below. Hoping you pull up anything at all.

Falling asleep while the rain is clashing down on the window is nature’s best lullaby.

EXHAUSTED I want a sleep permit, forgiveness to rest for hours, without even dreaming the light straw of a small dream. I want what before life was the deep sleep of the species, the grace of a state. Seed. Much more than roots.

Every time my head hit the pillow, I wondered why I had ever left my bed in the first place.

Feeling a little calmer?” she asked, leaning against the desk again. Dax snorted. “Mellow as anything. I’m ready to curl up and take a nap now. Don’t mind if I purr.

Feeling sorry for our bodies ought to be the closest we get to feeling sorry for ourselves.

For a time I hovered in that peaceful dreamland where nothing at all works properly but everything is okay.

Flying in his dreams was an exhilarating, breathtaking experience, sometimes literally, that tended to leave reality wanting, like riding a roller coaster compared to mowing the lawn.

Food," I suggested. "Sleep. That's what I need. To get the hell away from here." Cole frowned at me, as if I'd suggested "ducks" and "yoga".

Find someone who makes you realize three things: one, that home is not a place, but a feeling. Two, that time is not measured by a clock, but by moments. And three, that heartbeats are not heard, but felt and shared.

For a while she cried silently until she tired herself out and the overwhelming feeling of sleepiness overcame her. The room around her was fairly silent, although she wasn’t the only one crying herself to sleep. It was quite common at places like this to hear cries in the dark. There were so many saddened and lonesome souls around her. It was usually at night when they were reminded of just how sad and lonely they actually were.

Forgive all before you go to sleep, you'll be forgiven before you get up. – Lord Krishna.

Forgive everyone for everything, and sleep with a clean heart!Good Night Universe!

Forgive everyone and put yourself at the top of the list.

...for if she had two characteristics in her natural state of health, they were a facility of eating and sleeping. If she could neither eat nor sleep, she must be indeed out of spirits and out of Health.

For me, sleep equaled death. How was closing your eyes and losing consciousness any different from death? What separated temporary loss of consciousness from permanent obliteration?

Good morning,” Aline said, while her heartbeat rapidly outpaced her ability to think. She offered him her hand, and her breath caught at the gentle clasp of his fingers. Somehow she managed to find a calm social voice. “Did you rest well last night?” “No.” His eyes glinted as he retained her hand a moment longer than was acceptable. “I do hope that your room is not uncomfortable,” Aline managed to say, tugging free of him. “What would you do if I said it was?” “Offer you another room, of course.” “Don’t bother—unless it’s yours.” “That obliging a hostess, I’m not,” she informed him.

For some it is harder to wake up to the truth of life than it is to fall into the sleep of death

Gen was sleeping the sleep of the heavily drugged.

Ghosts do not haunt, they regress. Just as when you need to go to sleep you think of trees or lawns, you are taking instant symbolic refuge in a ready-made iconography of early safety and satisfaction. That exact place is where ghosts go.

Getting up early and feeling awake was the one skill he had never truly perfected - he got up, of course, but it never felt natural.

Good soul easily sleeps well.

Go where people sleep and see if they are safe

For then what wouldst thou know, flitting 'twixt waking and sleep!

Glory went to look in on her father. He lay on his right side, his face composed, intent on sleep. His hair had been brushed into a soft white cloud, like harmless aspiration, like a mist given off by the endless work of dreaming.

Going to sleep is an adventure: you never know where your dreams will take you.

Good sleep hygiene means making the conditions in your bedroom as conducive as possible to sleep. That means banishing all electronic screens--no TVs, no tablets, or phones.

Go to bed! Someone is anxious to come into your dream.

Gradually, he fell into that deep tranquil sleep which ease from recent suffering alone imparts; that calm and peaceful rest which it is pain to wake from. Who, if this were death, would be roused again to all the struggles and turmoils of life; to all its cares for the present; its anxieties for the future; more than all, its weary recollections of the past!

Granny Weatherwax had a primal snore. It had never been tamed. No one had ever had to sleep next to it, to curb its wilder excesses by means of a kick, a prod in the small of the back, or a pillow used as a bludgeon. It had had years in a lonely bedroom to perfect the knark, the graaah, and the gnoc, gnoc, gnoc unimpeded by the nudges, jabs, and occasional attempts at murder that usually moderate the snore impulse over time

Groping blindly in the darkness, he sank between the white mounds of cool feathers and slept as he fell, across the bed or with his head downward, pushing deep into the softness of the pillows, as if in sleep he wanted to drill through, to explore completely, that powerful massif of feather bedding rising out of the night.

Hail O mighty, fathomless sleep, come on and hug me tight and sweet; when I whisper those deepest pains, onto your ears mute and keen, sing for me the sweetest song that would sound the profoundest of life! Leave me upon your rocking arms, watched by spirits of placid nights! Goodnight, world, sweet dreams folks, blessed are those who would sleep at peace!

Hail, happiness, then, and after happiness, hail not those dreams which bloat the sharp image as spotted mirrors do the face in a country-inn parlour; dreams which splinter the whole and tear us asunder and wound us and split us apart in the night when we would sleep; but sleep, sleep, so deep that all shapes are ground to dust of infinite softness, water of dimness inscrutable, and there, folded, shrouded, like a mummy, like a moth, prone let us lie on the sand at the bottom of sleep.

Have you ever wonder about the misery of sleep?

Hard to say I'm sleeping.

He accepted new ideas as readily as new trends. Knowing those worth it would last and the lessers will pass.