Best 246 quotes in «insomnia quotes» category

Those who wake at this hour feel a lonely separation from everyone but night birds and ghost crabs, never imagining the legion of kindred souls scattered in the darkness, who stare at ceilings and pace floors and look out windows and covet and worry and mourn.

Tonight is going to be a big night, like any other night, because certain 10 million Americans will not be able to sleep well tonight.

Tonight - I am alone in the night, a homeless and sleepless nun! Tonight I hold all the keys to this the only capital city and lack of sleep guides me on my path. You are so lovely, my dusky Kremlin! Tonight I put my lips to the breast of the whole round and warring earth. Now I feel hair - like fur - standing on end: the stifling winds blow straight into my soul. Tonight I feel compassion for everyone, those who are pitied, along with those who are kissed.

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.

Try staying awake for 24 hours and you'll realize just how many needless worries your mind instantly shuts out.

Waldo, I say-that is-aren't you tired, my boy?" Professor Buckley, suppressing a yawn, was unaccustomed to others matching his wakefulness wink for wink, as it were, and seemed jealous of the competition Waldo presented in that regard. "Who can sleep?" Waldo replied. "We're on another of these crazy roads, we can't find the interstate...." "Yes, I suppose you're right." The Professor interrupted, taking off his thick spectacles and polishing them on his bright tie. "I, on the other hand, never sleep, as I'm sure you're aware." Waldo smiled. The Professor had little in life to be vain about, and he wasn't going to stop him from expressing a little pride now and then.

We stood there like that for a very long time until the sun had said its official good morning, and then Van turned me back to him. “Let’s go inside. It’s getting early and I have a feeling you could use some coffee.” I smiled, it’s getting early, that was the way I felt too, and I could definitely use some coffee.

What delicious abandon in the sleep of the child. Where do we lose it?

When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep, and you're never really awake.

You can drink yourself to sleep but not think yourself to sleep.

Women can go mad with insomnia. The sleep-deprived roam houses that have lost their familiarity. With tea mugs in hand, we wander rooms, looking on shelves for something we will recognize: a book title, a photograph, the teak-carved bird -- a souvenir from what place? A memory almost rises when our eyes rest on a painting's grey sweep of cloud, or the curve of a wooden leg in a corner. Fingertips faintly recall the raised pattern on a chair cushion, but we wonder how these things have come to be here, in this stranger's home. Lost women drift in places where time has collapsed. We look into our thoughts and hearts for what has been forgotten, for what has gone missing. What did we once care about? Whom did we love? We are emptied. We are remote. Like night lilies, we open in the dark, breathe in the shadowy world. Our soliloquies are heard by no one.

Whoever says sleep equals laziness is probably a bitter insomniac.

Yimello,' said Bernard finally, breaking the silence. 'Gesundheit?' I asked. 'It's a name for one of the colors that's invisible to us. Yimello," said Bernard. "There could also be glowl and novaly and replitz." 'Yes.' I nodded, stunned the kid could actually string together so many words at once. 'And, uh, don't forget the beautiful grynn, the luminous dulloff, or the subtle winooze.' Bernard's face lit up. He stood and started pacing the room, speaking quickly. 'Or salty, and insomnia, and carefree, and talkative, and lonely, and burnt, and punctual.' 'Some of my favorite colors,' I agreed, nodding. 'We could paint this room whisper. Or zigzag. Or maybe a nice shade of ignored and invisible.

You are the biggest enemy of your own sleep.

All men whilst they are awake are in one common world: but each of them, when he is asleep, is in a world of his own.

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

You're like a dream I never want to wake up from, but I; I'm insomniac!

You stay up until 3am - the time when the fine lines start to get blurry. You found yourself standing on the edge. You think you’re not supposed to be there so you jumped and crossed the line. You’ve come to a place where the voices are much louder…where the words are much clearer. It’s a place where the harmless things hurt you. It is where you wonder why the sea-like decisions you’ve made and the copper-like smiles has led you to loathe yourself. You wonder why your skin suddenly craves the feeling of metal. You laugh. Because it’s 3am- the time when salts and metals come together… the time when tears and blood embrace.

All my life I have been a poor go-to-sleeper. No matter how great my weariness, the wrench of parting with consciousness is unspeakably repulsive to me.

Your dreams may seem impossible to someone with insomnia.

You’re slowly dying trying to find peace somehow.

Another intruder that plagues our good health is sleeplessness. Insomnia is much like constipation in that stress or nervous tension can bring it on or aggravate it until there's almost no coping with it. That's why you find sleeping pills in so many medicine cabinets next to the laxatives.

Cats are rather delicate creatures and they are subject to a good many different ailments, but I have never heard of one who suffered from insomnia.

A conscious attempt to fall asleep is sure to produce insomnia, to try to be conscious of one's own digestion is a sure way to upset the stomach. Consciousness is a poison when we apply it to ourselves. Consciousness is a light directed outward. it's like the headlights on a locomotive—turn them inward and you'd have a crash.

Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear, your head like the golden rod, and we will go sailing away from here to the beautiful Land Of Nod.

Dawn: When men of reason go to bed.

Come Sleep! Oh Sleep, the certain knot of peace, the baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe, the poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, the indifferent judge between the high and low.

December is the most difficult month. Medications for insomnia or depression go up during the month of December. A lot of people who experience loss feel that loss magnified in December. Everybody seems happy and you feel all alone. You're not all alone.

Counting your blessings is a better cure for insomnia than counting sheep - you can fall asleep before you get through half of them.

Don't fight with the pillow, but lay down your head And kick every worriment out of the bed.

For most people, we often marvel at the beauty of a sunrise or the magnificence of a full moon, but it is impossible to fathom the magnitude of the universe that surrounds us.

For six months I couldn't sleep. With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy.

His insomnia was so bad, he couldn't sleep during office hours.

For years, I had used these fractured men to justify my cynicism and workaholism, and the grief, insomnia and casual anorexia were no longer of any interest to me.

I don't get insomnia, but I do get the odd night when I can't unwind.

Fatigue is the best pillow.

I don't spend sleepless nights over getting very bad reviews.

I don't try to match wine with food, I just drink what I like. And I think a lot of people are going towards that now, which never used to be in the past.

How do people go to sleep? I'm afraid I've lost the knack. I might try busting myself smartly over the temple with the night-light. I might repeat to myself, slowly and soothingly, a list of quotations beautiful from minds profound; if I can remember any of the damn things.

If we rail and kick against it and grow bitter, we won't change the inevitable; but we will change ourselves. I know. I have tried it. I once refused to accept an inevitable situation with which I was confronted. I played the fool and railed against it, and rebelled. I turned my nights into hells of insomnia. I brought upon myself everything I didn't want. Finally, after a year of self-torture, I had to accept what I knew from the outset I couldn't possible alter.

I have insomnia, and it's hard for me to sit still for a long time. My mind is always "tick, tick, tick.

If you can't sleep, then get up and do something instead of lying there worrying. It's the worry that gets you, not the lack of sleep.

I don't know why it should be, I am sure; but the sight of another man asleep in bed when I am up, maddens me.

I have never taken any exercise except sleeping and resting.

I'm kind of an insomniac and watch TV late at night.

I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. Standing on the edge of something much too deep.

In general, there are patients with insomnia who - many patients with insomnia will actually over report the lack of sleep that they are getting.

I'm making tapes for insomniacs to use in the future. I'm going to sell them as a kit to cure insomnia.

Insomnia is an indication, not a chaos. Its like ache. Youre not going to provide a patient ache medicine without figuring out whats reasoning the pain.

Insomnia is a glamorous term for thoughts you forgot to have in the day.