Best 246 quotes in «insomnia quotes» category

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 never noticed anything but you But you but you So that I couldn't sleep

...infirmity alone makes us take notice and learn, and enables us to analyse mechanisms of which otherwise we should know nothing. A man who falls straight into bed night after night, and ceases to live until the moment when he wakes and rises, will surely never dream of making, I don't say great discoveries, but even minor observations about sleep. He scarcely knows that he is asleep. A little insomnia is not without its value in making us appreciate sleep, in throwing a ray of light upon that darkness. An unfailing memory is not a very powerful incentive to the study of the phenomena of memory.

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

In living this way, we discover new opportunities for comfort and enjoyment. Where the younger person may have tossed and turned throughout a sleepless night, the older man or woman can possibly feel the pleasure that comes from lying on a good mattress, resting one's weary bones and overcharged intellect, whether or not one sleeps throughout the hours of darkness.

In night... in night is when my mind is a flutter, and the world ablaze. In night I see you, subtle, yet sure wrinkles in your smile and the echoes of your laugh. In night my mind tries to forget, but it is still there branded as etchings. In night my heart is set a fire thrashing to and fro from distant lands and seas. You were a sailor but your anchor was no match for the wild waves and so you floated, but quickly sank. And in night I write about a hundred moons and a hundred deaths. But they are all you. For you are the sky and the wild seas. And in night, I think, I will sail across your shore once again and once more.

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.

Insomnia can be a gift. More time for reading, writing and walking. More time to live.

insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company.

Insomniacs should not be forced to exist in a realm with reflective glass. From the first look I’m boxed in a prism, rainbows charming the other dark-circled self into sharing my prison. One eye turns on the other, each accusing the other of being responsible for an appearance oddly elfin, before exiting head and bouncing like lottery balls through the mirror walls and then drifting up and out the open and unguarded Well of the Wyrd. There, everyone with mirrors and mushrooms is waiting for me, faded and dissolved into giggles.

Insomnia I wonder If those talks matter Few done in the clarity of day Or the many Done at 3 a.m. in the morning

Insomnia is the act of pushing through sleep to achieve the art of insane creativity.

In the absence of sleep, my restless nights have been fueled by my overactive imagination, weaving waking dreams onto the canvas of conception. Filling my head with lots of ideas waiting to be born into reality. I am eager to return to my beautiful mistress, Creation!

I weep as I have never wept: Oh it was summer when I slept, It's winter now I waken.

I still smell your absence on my skin. It smells of insomnia and rusted key locks...

I thought calming thoughts and visualized serene places. Eventually, i found myself drifting along the frenetic edges of my mind. The Sandman was nowhere to be found, as i slipped further away from sleep.

I tried and tried to sleep, lulled by the movement, the purring of the motor, and the snores of the other passengers, but it's never been easy for me to sleep, and much less now, when I still have residues of the wild life running through my veins.

It's a long walk back to Eden, sweetheart, so don't sweat the small stuff.

It is at night when sleep like the outgoing sea leaves you dry and cold and the morning light arrives like a small punishment.

It is snowing and death bugs me as stubborn as insomnia.

I try to distract myself from reality by wielding an active imagination. Then I have nightmares.

It was the middle of the night, and Bingo couldn't sleep. The ground was hard, but he was used to that. . . .His blanket was dirty and smelled disgusting, but he was used to that too. A tune kept going through his head, and he couldn't get it out of his mind. It was the Wendels' victory song.

My flesh may have to be consumed, but my mind belongs to me. I'm keeping it for myself. I will not hand it over to anyone.

Lord, grant us rest tonight, and if we must be wakeful, cheerful.

Mungkin rindu berubah menjadi ribuan beludru di kelopak mata, atau kita biasa menyebutnya "insomnia.

My heart can feel the softness of a star Only when the moon stays afar I lay my mind on the pillow of sky Where sleep dares not ever to pry

My word stink of blood and gore of sleepless nights of invisible demons of razors and knives of slashed wrists My words - they stink.

Our current bittersweet relationship with our sleep hasn’t had a long history.

No human being believes that any other human being has a right to be in bed when he himself is up.

Not sleeping tonight Thoughts incoherent in mind A lucid dream gives solace.

Of all the things which make up our Short-Time lives, sleep is surely the best.

On the nights I can’t sleep, like that one, like so many recently, I wish I could just turn my mind off like a lamp.

Old movies already in progress, already passed over twice, watched with indifference until orchestras swell over happy endings, new beginnings. The images black and white, the lie white. (Ours is a world of heroes and of winners, and rarely are they one in the same.)

Our faster than ever evolution has resulted in our undermining certain incredibly important aspects of humanity—like our sleep.

Pack up all my care and woe, blackbird, bye-bye

Ralph reflected for a moment on the similarities between loneliness and insomnia — how they were both insidious, cumulative, and divisive, the friends of despair and the enemies of love.

Persons in whom a crisis takes place pass the night preceding the paroxysm uncomfortably, but the succeeding night generally more comfortably.

Poor sleepers should endeavor to compose themselves. Tampering with empty space, stirring up echoes in pitch-black pits of darkness is scarcely sedative. ("Out Of The Deep")

Perhaps it's something other than insomnia, to lie listening to children yelling as if they've re-created light; to try to dream, but succeed only in remembering; to toss and sweat in a dirty paste of sheets, while the drone of a ball game is gradually replaced by the buzz of a fly -- a fly buzzing like the empty frequencies between stations as its shadow grows enormous between the shade and windowpane. Is it insomnia for a man to wad his ears with the cotton from a pill bottle, to mask his eyes with blinders, and press a stale pillow over his head, praying for another day to burn down, so he can wake into another night?

Rings and magazines; keychains and umbrellas; hats and glasses; rattles and radios. They looked like different things, but Ralph thought they were really all the same thing: the faint, sorrowing voices of people who had found themselves written out of the script in the middle of the second act while they were still learning their lines for the third, people who had been unceremoniously hauled off before their work was done or their obligations fulfilled, people whose only crime had been to be born in the Random... and to have caught the eye of the madman with the rusty scalpel.

Right now I can't even control my own imagination as it grips my hair and drags me into the dark

Sleep deprivation is physically miserable and creatively cathartic, as internal landscapes rise up from their dormant ashes.

She married the prince and all went well except for the fear — the fear of sleep. Briar Rose was an insomniac... She could not nap or lie in sleep without the court chemist mixing her some knock-out drops and never in the prince's presence.

Somewhere in the night a human being is drowning.

Some thoughts are too angry to sleep. They lie awake all night and become obsessions.

That gap between half sleep and half awakening has always been occupied by nostalgia.

Survivors who don’t stand up for themselves often develop physical and emotional illnesses. Many become depressed because they feel so hopeless and helpless about being able to change their lives. They turn their anger inward and become prone to headaches, muscle tension, nervous conditions and insomnia.

The dismal fact is that self-respect has nothing to do with the approval of others — who are, after all, deceived easily enough; has nothing to do with reputation, which, as Rhett Butler told Scarlett O’Hara, is something people with courage can do without. To do without self-respect, on the other hand, is to be an unwilling audience of one to an interminable documentary that deals with one’s failings, both real and imagined, with fresh footage spliced in for every screening. There’s the glass you broke in anger, there’s the hurt on X’s face; watch now, this next scene, the night Y came back from Houston, see how you muff this one. To live without self-respect is to lie awake some night, beyond the reach of warm milk, the Phenobarbital, and the sleeping hand on the coverlet, counting up the sins of commissions and omission, the trusts betrayed, the promises subtly broken, the gifts irrevocably wasted through sloth or cowardice, or carelessness. However long we postpone it, we eventually lie down alone in that notoriously uncomfortable bed, the one we make ourselves. Whether or not we sleep in it depends, of course, on whether or not we respect ourselves.