Best 4943 quotes in «sleep quotes» category

When love is your motivation, almost anything can be achieved. First, however, it may be necessary to learn the difference between love and control. Love and guilt. Love and fear. Love and attraction. Love and hate.

When our life crackles and sparks like a torch, we curse the necessity of spending eight hours uselessly in sleep. When we have been deprived of everything, when we have been deprived of hope, then bless you, fourteen hours of sleep!

When sleep is abundant, minds flourish. When it is deficient, they don't.

When someone is tired, their judgment can be impaired. When they are dragging, it is hard for them to float above a problem and picture themselves and the problem in another place and time, so I gave them another directive: sleep. When you sleep, your brain is actually engaged in the neurochemical process of judgment. It is mapping connections and finding meaning among all the data you took in during the day. Tired people tend not to have the best judgment.

When something hurts them, they weep. By night, they rest, they sleep

When the body is in trouble, we must find and eliminate the cause, not medicate the symptom

When the world falls asleep, authors weave the stories that are called dreams.. and when authors dare to jot down.. that's called making dreams come true.

When twilight sleeps holding the night In your arms you embrace me tight Runaway hours clenched by kisses More of your love my heart misses

When travelling, concentrate on the path! Don’t sleep! Don’t read! Just live the journey in full by observing the path instead of wandering in your own world!

When we are awake we are looking through the wrong end of the telescope if transformational creativity is our goal. We take a myopic, hyperfocused, and narrow view that cannot capture the full informational cosmos on offer in the cerebrum. When awake, we see only a narrow set of all possible memory interrelationships. The opposite is true, however, when we enter the dream state and start looking through the other (correct) end of the memory-surveying telescope. Using that wide-angle dream lens, we can apprehend the full constellation of stored information and their diverse combinatorial possibilities, all in creative servitude.

When we are asleep, so it seems to me, we sleep surrounded by all the years. I have imagined, sleeping, that I heard the footsteps of the long-dead; I have held conversations with them, and with the blank-faced people I was yet to meet, conversations that seemed of unbearable poignancy, though when I woke I could remember only a few words, and those not words that possessed, waking, any emotional significance to me. It is said that this is because content is divorced from emotion in sleep, as though the sleeping mind read two books at once, one of tears and lust and laughter, the other words and phrases picked up from old newspapers, from grimy handbills blowing along the street and conversations overheard in barbershops and bars, and the banalities of radio. I think rather that we have forgotten on waking what the words have meant to us, or have not learned as yet what they will mean. But the worst thing is to wake and remember that we have been talking to the dead, having never thought to hear that voice again, having never any expectation of hearing it again before we ourselves are gone.

When we shrink our whole reality down to pending projects, when our life becomes our endless to-do list, it's difficult to put them aside each night and let ourselves fall asleep and connect with something deeper.

When we wake up in the morning (he thought), it's the first task that lies ahead of us: the separation of the true from the false. We have to dismiss, to erase the mocking kingdoms made by sleep. But at the close of day it was the other way round, and we sought the untrue and the fictitious, sometimes snapping ourselves awake in our hunger for nonsensical connections.

When you go to bed with a heart as light as a feather, your sleep catches wings.

When your dream doesn't let you sleep even after 22 hours of waking up, it's worth chasing.

When you're in bed to-night think not of wars, But rather of the Panda fast asleep, Her piebald head cushioned on woolly paws; Or think of velvet mice that warmly creep Into their holes to curl up round and soft. Transfer your thoughts from bellicose affairs; Though it be true that bombers fly aloft, Try to reflect on little furry bears. - Sleeping Mixture

When your day has been teeming with different sensations, when you have things on your mind, you can get to sleep to start with but you can't get back to sleep. Sleep comes a lot more easily than it comes back.

When you're in the throes of what feels like all-consuming pain, sleep is respite. It's your last refuge from the unrelenting guerilla attacks carried out against you by your own mind.

Whether it was in the maze of my fantastical mind or the allure of her gossamer eyes, they took me to undiscovered worlds of azure and metamorphosis. The air shimmered with every breath, the water tightened with every sound.

When you wake up with a song stuck in your head, it means an angel sang you to sleep.

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.

While some have contested how accurate or sound the Edina test case is, well-controlled and far larger systematic studies have proved that Edina is no fluke. Numerous counties in several US states have shifted the start of schools to a later hour and their students experienced significantly higher grade point averages.

Whoever says sleep equals laziness is probably a bitter insomniac.

Who cares what time you wake up and go to bed? What matters most is what you do with your life in between.

Who needs sleep when you have a good book?

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 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 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 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.

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.

Write now, sleep later.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

You drool in your sleep- Annabeth Chase

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

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

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 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.