Best 4943 quotes in «sleep quotes» category

I'll never get over the fact that the buildings all light up at night, and the night comes every night and without regret we let it go. We sleep a little and we live. That's what we do.

I long for sleep, and for soft English rain. But they do not come.

I looked; and the unseen figure, which still grasped me by the wrist, bad caused to be thrown open the graves of all mankind; and from each issued the faint phosphoric radiance of decay; so that I could see the innermost recesses, and there view the shrouded bodies in their dead and solemn slumber with the worm. But alas! the real sleepers were fewer, by many millions, than those who slumbered not at all; and there was a feebly struggling; and there was a general and sad unrest; and from out of the depths of the countless pits there came a melancholy rustling from the garments of the buried.

I love dipping into dreams and sinuously sinking into sleep. It's the freest place to be. The possibilities are limitless and my imagination becomes a weightless wonder.

I love her, but every hug leaves bullet holes in my chest. Every kiss is another scar upon my flesh. Every thrust, every touch, every moan that escapes her lips...they are famine to my soul, and I still can't let her go.

I love this idea, that nature dreamed up the same kind of sleep in both humans and birds, fostering the growth of big brains in creatures so far apart on life’s tree.

I'm afraid we shall waste an awful lot of time." "Don't worry," answered Snufkin, "we shall have wonderful dreams, and when we wake up it'll be spring.

I’m awake and I can’t sleep. The more I’m awake, the more I see, and the harder to sleep.

I'm going to bed now, Lovis! Not to sleep. But to think and to curse, and woe better anyone who disturbs me!

I'm just an insomniac struggling for a night where I don't dream of you anymore.

I'm lonely, Yes! I'm so lonely. I'm Just a sad tear that came out of the depths of pain. I have neither friend nor a lover. I live in an empty dark shell. Punctuated by the lights of my dreams. I hear a whisper. I hear an echo. Why everything I love in this world. It's expensive, or it makes me sad. Beyond my shell, there is an empty world. A world filled with hatred and lies. A world filled with vanity and treason. A world filled with injustice and selfishness. There is a noise in my silence, but I shout quietly. So as to your pure heart can hear me. I tried to escape from my bitter reality. A reality that walks against my dreams. I found out that sleep is my best shelter. Because life is easy when eyes are closed. So I give up my eyes, and went to sleep. Then suddenly! I felt a call, something tried to wake me up. I felt whispers caressing my soul. That together we stand, divided we fall. That you are the king of my thrown, And only beside you, I feel like I have everything. I love you my shell, my home.

I'm not an insomniac. It's just that my mind is in the best position to catch the weight of all hovering possibilities the moment I lie down.

I'm not sure what form I expected the threat to take; a police car actually stopping outside, a powerfully built black man darting up the drive? I had several dreams of siege, in which the house became a frail slatted box, shadowy and exquisite within, the walls all cracked and bleached louvres which fell to powder as one brushed against them. In one dream Arthur and I were there, and others, old school friends, a gaggle of black kids from the Shaft, my grandfather tearful and hopeless. We knew we had no chance of surviving the violence that surrounded us, closing in fast, and I was gripped by a nauseating terror. I woke up in the certain knowledge that I was about to die: the bedsprings were ticking from the sprinting vehemence of my heartbeat. I didn't dare go back to sleep and after a while sat up and read, while Arthur slept deeply beside me. It took days to lose the mood of the dream, and its power to prickle my scalp. The neighbourhood seemed eerily impregnated with it, and its passing made possible a new confidence, as if a sentence had been lifted.

I’m still afraid to sleep—too many ghosts peering creeping condemning.

I'm the G when you spell OG

In 2017 at the age of 47 I was diagnosed with a rare and disabling sleep disorder called Ideopathic Hypersomnia. I had noticed the onset of the condition during extreme night shift work from 2003 to 2006 on the 13,796 feet very high altitude summit of Mauna Kea. After a few years of doctors visits for insomnia, fatigue, sleepiness and falling asleep at work, it was initially diagnosed as Shift Work Sleep Disorder in 2009 before being correctly diagnosed by a Multiple Sleep Latency Test several years later.

In all well-organised brains, the predominating idea—and there always is one—is sure to be the last thought before sleeping, and the first upon waking in the morning. Andrea had scarcely opened his eyes when his predominating idea presented itself, and whispered in his ear that he had slept too long.

In another world,' he said, lowering his voice; I remember... was it not in another world, in a life which was not in thrall to sleep and its phantoms?...

In a sleep caused by the drowsiness of defeat, she dreamt of endless travel into darkness.

In a while, her eyes felt leaden and she felt sleep overpower her, even as she fought to keep her eyes open. In vain, I tried to churn within her, a little nugget of fear, trying desperately to warn her of impending danger.

In bed, I can go for hours. Oh yes, I love naps.

I never advise friends to put money in anything,. said Danny. 'It's a no-win situation - if they make a profit they forget that it was you who recommended it, and if they make a loss they never stop reminding you. My only advise would be not to gamble what you can't afford, and never to risk an amount that might cause you to lose a night's sleep

In between waking up from bed in the morning and going back in the evening, let something happen. God will bless that “something” for you.

I needed seven hours of sleep. At least. I've always envied those who don't need much sleep. Those who wake up after five hours and are ready to preform at their best. They're the ones who really go far in life, I've heard.

I never sleep well when I'm on call.

In a way, she became the sand to my hourglass... she made watching that trickling sand a little more bearable. I no longer worried about what would happen when the sand ran out. I began to see the spark each grain held as it fell.

In my journal I logged this comment: "On the day that I was officially a grown woman, I felt anything but feminine rather, befouled from the sweat of hard physical labor and the stinking mud. I wanted nothing so much as to sleep for a week.

In insomnia we encounter the very heart of love’s darkness: the essential otherness of the beloved.

In my dreams I am sleeping I am sleeping in my dreams I wish to dream in my sleep Just wish to dream in my sleep.

In my sleep I have my nightmares, awake I have my thoughts, I am not sure which is worse.

Inside, my soul is curled tightly bearing the burden of massive sins from another life. And my eyes look far at the hell around me... a sharp grin tugs at the corner of my lips.

In reality, what difference is there between a flower and our imagination? There is none truly, for the world is a living pulsation, and that pulsation is in everything.

In practice it is death that works so seductively behind the image of its brother, sleep

Insomniacs exaggerate the pleasures of sleep.

Insomnia I cannot get to sleep tonight. I toss and turn and flop. I try to count some fluffy sheep while o'er a fence they hop. I try to think of pleasant dreams of places really cool. I don't know why I cannot sleep - I slept just fine at school.

Insomnia, then, is not just a state of sleeplessness, a matter of negatives. It involves the active pursuit of sleep. It is a state of longing.

In the old days, before I was married, or knew a lot of women, I would just pull down all the shades and go to bed for three or four days. I'd get up to shit. I'd eat a can of beans, go back to bed, just stay there for three or four days. Then I'd put on my clothes and I'd walk outside, and the sunlight was brilliant, and the sounds were great. I felt powerful, like a recharged battery. But you know the first bring-down? The first human face I saw on the sidewalk, I lost half my charge right there.

In their sleep, both boys kept moving closer to me, and when I finally drifted off, there was one arm wrapped around my stomach and one hand intertwined with mine.

In the last 10 years, we have seen a rise in selfishness: selfies, self-absorbed people, superficiality, self-degradation, apathy, and self-destruction. So I challenge all of you to take initiative to change this programming. Instead of celebrating the ego, let's flip the script and celebrate the heart. Let's put the ego and celebrity culture to sleep, and awaken the conscience. This is the battle we must all fight together to win back our humanity. To save our future and our children.

In time, he began to see the details that held us like invisible stitches together. The scars we held within, the tears despite our dry faces. He saw the little sigh that came with the song. The way our breathing became labored even though nothing seemed wrong. He peeked into the aimless gaze of daydreamers, reliving their worst moments, commending them on being so strong.

In this very special self-hypnotic state there can be no question of getting out of touch with on[e]self and floating into a normal sleep (unless you are very tired at the start)

In whatever disease sleep is laborious, it is a deadly symptom; but if sleep does good, it is not deadly.

In troubled times one wishes for a sound sleep more than usual, but, realizing its amplified importance, sleep smugly impedes all attempts to woo it.

Ironically, just when she needed to get as much sleep as possible to prepare her for the next few days, her excited anticipation kept her awake long into the night.

I only understand that while I’m sleeping I have no fear, or hope, or trouble, or glory; blessed be whoever invented sleep, the mantle that covers all human thought...

I realized the world around me was fragmented and broken... I had to be gentle enough not to scrape against the jagged pieces. I would not be cut today.

I really like it when a bad dream doesn't scare you...it inspires you instead'.

I rest in ease, knowing there are others out there, whispering themselves to sleep, just like me.

I only wake to fall asleep And sleep, to awake without end.

I paced while he slept, ricocheting like a dove skidding the lonely confines of a Joseph Cornell box.