Best 1296 quotes in «bed quotes» category

There are three traps that strangle philosophy: The church, the marriage bed, and the professor's chair.

There are two words that you should use frequently in your youth: ´sorry´ and ´thank-you´. Use the first one as often as possible, so that on your death bed all that you have to say to your friends is ´thank-you!´.

There goes a saying, and 'twas shrewdly said, ''Old fish at table, but young flesh in bed.

There is a dead spot in the night, that coldest, blackest time when the world has forgotten evening and dawn is not yet a promise. A time when it is far too early to arise, but so late that going to bed makes small sense.

There is a healthy American newspaper tradition of not taking yourself seriously It is the story you must take that way... And if you do take yourself seriously, according to this sound convention, you are supposed to do your best not to let anyone else know about it. (Like bed-wetting.)

There is a simple, logical explanation,' I said to myself. And because you never know who else is listening, I added, 'And there is nothing under the bed.'" --Dexter

There is a riddle about a man who is locked in a room with nothing but a bed and a calendar, and the question is: How does he survive? The answer is: He eats dates from the calendar and drinks from the springs of the bed.

There is no more miserable human being than one in whom nothing is habitual but indecision, and for whom the lighting of every cigar, the drinking of every cup, the time of rising and going to bed every day, and the beginning of every bit of work, are subjects of express volitional deliberation.

There is nothing that has caused me to meditate more on Plato's secrecy and sphinx-like nature, than the happily preserved petit fait that under the pillow of his death-bed there was found no 'Bible,' nor anything Egyptian, Pythagorean, or Platonic - but a book of Aristophanes. How could even Plato have endured life - a Greek life which he repudiated - without an Aristophanes!

There is no such thing as a bed of roses all your life.

There is one death bed repentance recorded in the Bible (the thief on the cross), so that no one despair, but there is ONLY one, so that no one will presume.

Therell always be some weird thing about eating four grapes before you go to bed, or drinking a special tea, or buying this little bean from El Salvador.

There should be hours for necessities, not for delights; times to repair our nature with comforting repose, and not for us to waste these times.

The Republican Party is in a predicament that it made itself. It made its own bed, and now they don't want to lay in it.

There's a little vanity chair that Charlie gave me the first Christmas we knew each other. I'll not be parting with that, nor our bed - the four-poster - I'll be needing that to die in.

There's been a lot of coming home in the early mornings after funny nights out, having bizarre sandwiches in bed.

There's a group in California that wants to make suicide a capital offense punishable by death. That's like punishing someone for being on a hunger strike by sending them to bed with no supper.

These pearls of thought in Persian gulfs were bred, Each softly lucent as a rounded moon; The diver Omar plucked them from their bed, Fitzgerald strung them on an English thread.

There was no one to call me to bed, no one to demand that the rhythms of my life operate in a duet.

The saddest thing is that when I sat down to rehearse for the Pixies, I couldn't believe that I had given up something that I loved. Now I hold the drum at night and I want to go to bed with it.

There were days that I literally had no reason to get out of bed. It just was so destructive for me.

There were some days that deserved to be drowned at birth and everyone sent back to bed with a hot brandy, a box of chocolates and a warm, energetic companion. Today was without question one of those days.

The safe and cultural method of eating crackers in bed is to wear a diver's suit instead of pajamas.

The service at the Imperial (Tokyo) is the finest I've encountered anywhere. There was a button next to my bed marked ROOM SERVICE - and a maid to press it for me.

The sluices of the grog-shop are fed from the wine-glasses in the parlor, and there is a lineal descent from the gentleman who hiccoughs at his elegant dinner-table to the sot who makes a bed of the gutter.

The tool that's most associated with the recent progress against malaria is the long-lasting bed net. Bed nets are a fantastic innovation. But we can do even better. We can invent new ways to control the mosquitoes that carry the malaria parasite.

The theater used to be a place where you look like a human being. Now people look like they just got out of bed.

The trip I made to Angola to study the prehistoric contents of the gravel beds as a means of deciding the age of the deposits and their economic potential was the first time prehistory had ever been used for such a purpose.

The true poet is all the time a visionary and whether with friends or not, as much alone as a man on his death bed.

The world is full of double beds And most delightful maidenheads, Which being so, there's no excuse For sodomy or self-abuse.

The way to bliss lies not on beds of down, And he that had no cross deserves no crown.

The work is with me when I wake up in the morning; it is with me while I eat my breakfast in bed and run through the newspaper, while I shave and bathe and dress.

The worst that happened to men of science was that Galileo suffered an honorable detention and a mild reproof, before dying peacefully in his bed.

The writer, an old man with a white moustache, had some difficulty getting into bed.

The tyrant custom, most grave senators, Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war My thrice-driven bed of down.

The work of Nigeria is not complete for as long as there is any one Nigerian who goes to bed on empty stomach.

They change the sheets every day... from one bed to another.

They leave things behind sometimes, the guests. A bottle of scent. A crumpled handkerchief. A pearl button that fell off a dress and rolled under a bed. And sometimes they leave other sorts of things. Things you can't see. A sigh trapped in a corner. Memories tangled in the curtains. A sob fluttering against the windowpane like a bird that flew in and can't get back out. I can feel these things. They dart and crouch and whisper.

Though youth be past, and beauty fled, The constant heart its pledge redeems, Like box, that guards the flowerless bed And brighter from the contrast seems.

Thirst of wealth no quiet knows, But near the death-bed fierce grows.

This feeling is not unlike the sinking in one's stomach when one is in an elevator that suddenly goes down, or when you are snug in your bed and your closet door suddenly creaks open to reveal the person who has been hiding there.

This is how magic is done. By hurling yourself into the abyss and discovering its a feather bed.

This sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh!

This wasn’t the first time I’d been pulled out of bed for a crucial mission. It was, however, the first time I’d been subjected to such a personal line of questioning. “Are you a virgin?

Those other 10 o'clock shows that come on, all you get from them is headaches and nightmares when you go to bed! At least we give you food, know what I mean?

Three jolly huntsmen, In coats of red, Rode their horses Up to bed.

Tick, tock,” whispers Wiress. I guide her in front of me and get her to lie down, stroking her arm to soothe her. She drifts off, stirring restlessly, occasionally sighing out her phrase. “Tick, tock.” “Tick, tock,” I agree softly. “It’s time for bed. Tick, tock. Go to sleep.

Time for bed.” I held my fist out. One by one, my flock stacked theirs on top, and then we headed up into the trees to sleep the sleep of the innocent. Well, okay, maybe not so innocent. But the sleep of the much less guilty than others, for sure.

This card is sent to cheer you As you're confined to bed I'm sure it'll feel all worthwhile In the happier days ahead.

This city belongs to ghosts, to murderers, to sleepwalkers. Where are you, in what bed, in what dream?