Best 1296 quotes in «bed quotes» category

As an entrepreneur, what drives you has to be the good news; otherwise, you just don't get out of bed.

As a seasoned insomniac, I knew sometimes the way to beat sleeplessness was to outwit it: to pretend you didn't care about sleeping. Then sometimes sleep became piqued, like a rejected lover, and crept up to try to seduce you.

As I climbed up into the high old bed, the large fly in my personal ointment did the same. Had I actually told him he could get in bed with me? Well, I decided, as I wriggled down under the soft old sheets and the blanket and the comforter, if Eric had designs on me, I was just too tired to care. "Woman?" "Hmmm?" "What's your name?" "Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse." "Thank you, Sookie." "Welcome, Eric.

As I lay on my back in bed staring up at the blank, white ceiling the stillness seemed to grow bigger and bigger until I felt my eardrums would burst with it.

A sleepy smile pulled at my lips as I rolled onto my stomach, stretching my legs out and pointing my toes. The sheets slipped over my bare skin and ended up somewhere at the foot of my bed. There was either a perverted ghost in my bedroom or Cam was wide awake.

A small part of her secretly hoped she caught him in bed. But that really was a very small part. The bigger part hoped he was in the shower.

As much as I'd like to be listening to other things, I can't do that until I get all of this sort of put to bed.

As my mother said, I never sprang out of bed with a glad shout! My voice needed oiling and then it took off.

As to Caesar, when he was called upon, he gave no testimony against Clodius, nor did he affirm that he was certain of any injury done to his bed. He only said, He had divorced Pompeia because the wife of Caesar ought not only to be clear of such a crime, but of the very suspicion of it.

A strong argument for the religion of Christ is this - that offences against Charity are about the only ones which men on their death-beds can be made - not to understand - but to feel - as crime.

Astrophysicists perfected navigation. We perfected all these things that matter to the power of nations manifest on the world stage. So we want to go into space. That's the new high ground, right? We care about multispectral imaging of things. Well, that's what reconnaissance wants to do. So our expertise has been in bed with national security needs forever. So maybe, secretly, that's why they keep us employed.

A time when it is far too early to arise, but so late that going to bed makes small sense.

A 'truth' detached and purified of pleasures of ordinary life is not worth a damn in my view. Every grand theory and noble sentiment ought to be first tested in the kitchen-and then in bed, of course.

A Tory minister can sleep in ten different women's beds in a week. A Labour minister gets it in the neck if he looks at his neighbour's wife over the garden fence.

At one point, I didn't get out of bed for, I think, three months, and I went down to the bottom of the hill one day and I had to call somebody to get me to come back up - come pick me up because I couldn't physically walk up the hill.

Bed is the best place for reading, thinking, or doing nothing.

At the moment of waking up, before getting out of bed, get in touch with your breath

Avoid activities outdoor. If you like to take an afternoon nap sleep under bed net. So these are measures that can be done to minimize [the] chance of infection [with Zika virus].

A woman without breasts is like a bed without pillows.

Before bed, I read a book or flip on the radio - I'm not picky, I'll just turn it on and see what comes up. I burn a yummy lavender- scented candle.

A woman's pity, which is talkative, carries the sick person's bed to the public marketplace.

Be careful what you wear to bed, because you never know where you might wake up.

Before checking that last email before you go to bed, say to yourself, No, I am important. This is important. My body is more important.

Beds last on an average much longer than marriages.

Before I went to bed, I sat up till 2 a-clock in my chamber, reading of Mr. Hooke's Microscopical Observations, the most ingenious book that I ever read in my life.

Before you take the leap, before you jump, really make sure it's going to be something you want to get out of bed [to do] everyday, because it is so hard. So you want to make sure that you're really committed.

Believe me, those great death bed speeches are written ahead of time.

Be in the habit of getting up bright and early on the weekends. Why waste such precious time in bed?

Believe me, you have to get up early if you want to get out of bed.

Beware The Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send the Talon for your head.

Bring you comics in bed, scrape the mold off the bread, and serve you French toast again. Okay, I still get stoned.

Boyfriends have to understand me and my needs. They have to know what I want out of my life and about my strict regime. I go to bed at 10pm and not later. I separate my professional and private lives.

Birth control that really works - every night before we go to bed we spend an hour with our kids.

Blomkvist had indeed had many brief relationships. He knew he was reasonably good-looking, but he had never considered himself exceptionally attractive. But he had often been told that he had something that made women interested in him . . .that he radiated self-confidence and security at the same time, that he had the ability to make women feel at ease. Going to bed with him was not threatening or complicated, but it might be erotically enjoyable. And that, according to Blomkvist, was as it should be.

Blustery cold days should be spend propped up in bed with a mug of hot chocolate and a pile of comic books.

Business men who are busy the whole day and immediately go to bed after supper, snoring like cows, are not likely to contribute anything to culture.

But no one ever is allowed in Sleepytown, unless He goes to bed in time to take the Sleepytown Express!

But for now, I just sat there on the bed and listened to my song. The one that had been written for me by a man who knew me not at all, now sung by the one who knew me best.

But in reading Shakespeare and in reading about Edward de Vere, it's quite apparent that when you read these works that whoever penned this body of work was firstly well-travelled, secondly a multi-linguist and thirdly someone who had an innate knowledge of the inner workings and the mechanisms of a very secret and paranoid Elizabethan court. Edward de Vere ticks those three boxes and many more. William of Stratford gave his wife a bed when he died [his second best bed].

But I will be, A bridegroom in my death, and run into't As to a lover's bed.

But no matter what was going on in our lives, I could imagine lying beside her in bed at the end of the day, holding her while we talked and laughed, lost in each other's arms

But do you ever think of me, when you lie? Lie down in your bed, your bed of lies.

But most distinctly, I remember always saying to myself that when I get big, I'm not going to go to bed hungry, I'm not going to wear hand-me-down clothes.

Cause at the end of the day, honestly, at the end of the day when you're in your death bed and that's it, I think it's the relationships you've had and the people that you've touched and the people that have touched you that matter.

California is a state peculiarly addicted to swift enthusiasms. It is a seed-bed of all manner of cults and theories, taken up, and dropped, with equal speed.

Carlos was probably somewhere warm, eating three meals a day, and sleeping in a real bed. That was the life

But to write - that is grief and labor; and to read what one has written - how unlike the story as one saw it; how dull, how spirtless - that is enough to send one weeping to bed.

Come up, April, though the valley, / In your robes of beauty drest, / Come and wake your flowery children / From their wintry beds of rest.

Clary," he whispered. There was a thump, and she realized he had fallen to his kees by the side of her bed. She didn't move, but her body tightened. His voice was a whisper. "Clary, it's me. It's me.

Clothing left on the bed unfolded. Books stained with coffee spots. Tabs not paid until the last possible second. Boys kissed and then forgotten in a week’s time.