Sleep Quotes - Page 148

Wine has a drastic, an astringent taste. I cannot help wincing as I drink. Ascent of flowers, radiance and heat, are distilled here to a fiery, yellow liquid. Just behind my shoulder-blades some dry thing, wide-eyed, gently closes, gradually lulls itself to sleep. This is rapture. This is relief.

I read two to three books a day anyway (I only sleep about two hours a night, and I read really fast).

I don't care who you are, but you turn into a different person when you don't sleep.

I'm missing something when I'm sleeping.

Sleep [is like] a dove which has landed near one's hand and stays there as long as one does not pay any attention to it.

Oh, for that remarkable and complex economy of motherhood. Those back and forth generosities-where one day a mom ferries the kids to the swim meet, or a mom takes your kid off to the movies while you're sick with the flu. And the next week after baseball you have all the kids sleep over. Not to mention the friend with whom you freely have the throw-your-hands-in-the-air-I-surrender discussions of how to manage any of it.

To gaze into the depths of the sea is, in the imagination, like beholding the vast unknown, and from its most terrible point of view. The submarine gulf is analogous to the realm of night and dreams. There also is sleep, unconsciousness, or at least apparent unconsciousness, of creation. There in the awful silence and darkness, the rude first forms of life, phantomlike, demoniacal, pursue their horrible instincts.

It is an unpleasant thing to go to bed without supper, it is a still less pleasant thing not to sup and not to know where one is to sleep.

At least you are mine! Soon – in a few months, perhaps, my angel will sleep in my arms, will awaken in my arms, will live there. All your thought at all moments, all your looks will be for me; all my thought, all my moments, all my looks will be for you!

Why do people want to pretend that death is sleep? It isn't. It isn't.

I take a deep breath. I'm not sure where that swell of desperation came from, but know that I've acknowledge it, it's impossible to ignore, like a living thing has awakened from a long sleep inside me. It writhes in my stomach and throat. I need to leave. I need the truth.

I see a few hands stretching out to me at the edge of the net, so I grabbed the first one I could reach and pull myself across. I roll off, and would have fallen face-first onto a wood floor if he had not caught me. "He" is the young man attached to the hand I grabbed. He has a spare upper lip and a full lower lip. His eyes are so deep-set that his eyelashes touch the skin under his eyebrows, and they are dark blue, a dreaming, sleeping, waiting color.

I've done without doing things, like sleeping and eating, but I need to write.

Sleeping people are so remote.... Right here, but out of communication. That's what strikes humans as uncanny about sleep. Its utter privacy. The sleeper turns his back on everyone.

We sleep researchers like cats, you know; they sleep a lot!

Science fiction is not predictive; it is descriptive.... Prediction is the business of prophets, clairvoyants, and futurologists. It is not the business of novelists. A novelist's business is lying.... Open your eyes; listen, listen. That is what the novelists say. But they don't tell you what you will see and hear. All they can tell you is what they have seen and heard, in their time in this world, a third of it spent in sleep and dreaming, another third of it spent in telling lies.

I like to keep myself wrapped in layers of sleep and wait for the geraniums.

Motherfucker. She leaves me no choice. Now I have to break her self-esteem, sleep with her and steal the shirt.

Don't wanna sleep, don't wanna die, just wanna go a-travellin' through the pastures of the sky

And yes, to answer you seriously, I am beginning to be... well, not bored, but tempted; afraid, but tempted. When you've been in pain for a long time, when you wake up every morning with a rising sense of hysteria, then boredom is what you want, marathon sleeps, a silence in yourself.

I sleep 75 percent of all plane trips I take. I love red-eyes from West to East. I take Ambien to make sure I sleep. I always stay on West Coast time, and I'm always so fried when I come back, I usually sleep naturally.

I'm old, and so busy with work, that I like to just stay home and get my sleep now. I try not to burn both ends of the candle.

Look at The Adventure. A boat by night is a wonderful sight. This is the way to start a new life, with a hurricane lamp shining at the top of the mast, and the coastline disappearing behind one as the whole world lies sleeping. Making a journey by night is more wonderful than anything in the world.

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. And if I should die before I awake, I pray the popular attend my wake.

I used to be, like, "Sleep when I die."