Sleep Quotes - Page 16

There are the people of the day, and the creatures of the night. And it's important to remember that the creatures of the night aren't simply the people of the day staying up late because they think that makes them cool and interesting. It takes more than heavy mascara and a pale complexion to cross the divide.

I was lost in the moments I decided to keep. To be awake in a dreamless sleep. And in that place between dream and sleep, I planted some more things I would like to keep.

Motherhood is a constant battle of wanting to go to bed early so you can catch up on sleep and wanting to stay awake so you can enjoy some peace and sanity!

Because at nightwhen others are sleeping, I drown myself in poetry.

The old sleep poorly. Perhaps they stand watch.

Why won't they let me be? I just need to rest, that's all, to rest and sleep some, and maybe die a little.

In the last 10 years, we have seen a rise in selfishness: selfies, self-absorbed people, superficiality, self-degradation, apathy, and self-destruction. So I challenge all of you to take initiative to change this programming. Instead of celebrating the ego, let's flip the script and celebrate the heart. Let's put the ego and celebrity culture to sleep, and awaken the conscience. This is the battle we must all fight together to win back our humanity. To save our future and our children.

You must be more alive than life.You must see darkness danceand hear silence sing.You must be more awake than lightfor we aren’t born sleepingand we shouldn’t live sleeping.Only then will death’s slumberbecome sweet.

Sometimes at night I would sleep open-eyed underneath a sky dripping with stars. I was alive then.

when I finally begin to driftinto sleepyour memory is the...firstand the moonlightthe last, to kiss my face.

Just being around her made me feel better. She had an amber shade aura to her that filled any cracks and brokenness I hadn't yet fixed. I could be myself around her, knowing full well she held on as I let go.

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

Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.

Forgive everyone for everything, and sleep with a clean heart!Good Night Universe!

Although she was giddy with exhaustion, sleep was a lover who refused to be touched....

It was only after my head started reeling and my body started weaving and I tumbled into bed that I'd hear that soothing voice singing...The reverbations of that voice wandered sweetly, softly, working like a massage on the area of my heart that was the most tightly clenched, helping those knots to loosen. It was like the rush of waves, and like the laughter of people I'd met in all kinds of places, people I'd become friendly with and then separated from, and like the kind words all those people had said to me, and like the mewing of a cat I had lost, and like the mixture of noises that rang in the background in a place that was dear to me, a place far away, a place that no longer existed, and like the rushing of trees that whisked past my ears as I breathed in a scent of fresh greenery on a trip someplace... the voice was like a combination of all this.

Research suggests that sea level adapted humans that work at the very high altitude 13,796 feet summit of Mauna Kea may eventually develop sleep apnea and fatigue from the low oxygen environment.

I feel like I'm sleeping when I'm awake, and really living when I'm asleep.

When you're lying in bed at night and regrets from the day come to steal your sleep... "I should have" "If only I'd" "I wish I'd"...grab one of them and turn it into an "I will" and sleep peacefully knowing tomorrow will be a better day.

Sometimes, I think, that in the mornings when you first wake up, every thing that happened in the previous day rushes through our mind so fast, we, A: Don't realize it. B: Become more tired, die a little inside, and become groggy. Since everyday, we die a little inside we age closer and closer to death. We constantly grow older, and we're constantly dying. Therefore, don't wake me up early, or I'll take it that you wanted to kill me.

If making a difference in someone else’s life makes me sleep every night, then I will do it everyday.

I heard raindrops in the nightPattering upon my eaves,Like a pleasing lullabyEasing me back to sleep,Which I thought was odd a bit,For I awoke because of it.

Go where people sleep and see if they are safe

However interesting and lovely my days were, I could get from one day to the next only by passing through a night. I have, it is true, known lovely nights here; nights of sound sleep and good dreams and nights made wakeful by happy thoughts. but I have not always been a good sleeper, and my thoughts at night have sometimes been far from happy.

Though I exist in the realms of day and night, I'm only truly alive in the moments between.

Gabe?"The newchild stirred slightly in his sleep. Jonas looked over at him. "There could be love", Jonas whispered.

The miraculous power of love has often been underestimated just like we underestimate the power of sleep. Most of the herculean tasks performed by men were possible because they had been deeply in love and had slept well the night before.

Never go to bed mad. Stay up and fight.

I wash with the can of water I set aside the night before, and eat whatever I put next to it. The washing is not strictly necessary but, again, I have always found it a good way to greet the day. You wash after a period of work, after all, and what else is a night of sleep, if not work, or a journey at least? ("The Things He Said")

Tell me a story. Be my storyteller.

Sleep is still most perfect, in spite of hygienists, when it is shared with a beloved. The warmth, the security and peace of soul, the utter comfort from the touch of the other, knits the sleep, so that it takes the body and soul completely in its healing.

I spread eggshells all over my room, so anyone who tries to get close when I sleep will know what they're walking on

The ‘Muse’ is not an artistic mystery, but a mathematical equation. The gift are those ideas you think of as you drift to sleep. The giver is that one you think of when you first awake.

Glory went to look in on her father. He lay on his right side, his face composed, intent on sleep. His hair had been brushed into a soft white cloud, like harmless aspiration, like a mist given off by the endless work of dreaming.

Mumbai is the sweet, sweaty smell of hope, which is the opposite of hate; and it's the sour, stifled smell of greed, which is the opposite of love. It's the smell of Gods, demons, empires, and civilizations in resurrection and decay. Its the blue skin-smell of the sea, no matter where you are in the island city, and the blood metal smell of machines. It smells of the stir and sleep and the waste of sixty million animals, more than half of them humans and rats. It smells of heartbreak, and the struggle to live, and of the crucial failures and love that produces courage. It smells of ten thousand restaurants, five thousand temples, shrines, churches and mosques, and of hunderd bazaar devoted exclusively to perfume, spices, incense, and freshly cut flowers. That smell, above all things - is that what welcomes me and tells me that I have come home. Then there were people. Assamese, Jats, and Punjabis; people from Rajasthan, Bengal, and Tamil Nadu; from Pushkar, Cochin, and Konark; warrior caste, Brahmin, and untouchable; Hindi, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Jain, Parsee, Animist; fair skin and dark, green eyes and golden brown and black; every different face and form of that extravagant variety, that incoparable beauty, India.

The sleeper turns his back on everyone.

One of the Georges," said Psmith, "I forget which, once said that a certain number of hours' sleep a day--I cannot recall for the moment how many--made a man something, which for the time being has slipped my memory. However, there you are. I've given you the main idea of the thing; and a German doctor says that early rising causes insanity.

A hand touched my shoulder, shaking me. I was back on the bus. It was dark and warm and I just wanted to sleep, but Chloe kept shaking my sho

Many countries collapsed totally just because nations of that country were sleeping like a log while the country is collapsing totally!

I'll never get over the factthat the buildings all light up at night,and the night comes every nightand without regret we let it go.We sleep a little and we live.That's what we do.

Every spark returns to darkness. Every sound returns to silence. Every flower returns to sleep with the earth. The journey of the sun and moon is predictable. But yours, is your ultimateart.

Woven words are little conviction when I present myself as a man of fiction. And you a woman of lies and deceit, stumbling forward on two left feet. You are an exquisite figurine of an incomprehensible place, While I, a soldier of my cause, my race. A single sip of you would satiate thirst, hunger and empty. Yet, you stand unmoved, comfortable knowing you could stave desires plenty. To my heart, you are known as 'shatter.' Between saint and sin, you are the latter. End, not even my finest words will matter. The still, the silence, even then, you are famine to my soul. My chest lacks certain weight now; I simply wish to be whole. Now, I stand before you broken, humbled and so bare, Only to see your infinite eyes brimming with no care. Your heart is a cauldron that burns darkest fuel. And I a remnant of smog, the overly-bitter fool. The man of fiction stumbles forward on two left feet, The woman of lies weaves words of conviction and deceit.

If people don’t sleep with me I just rape them. Because right is not given but taken.

The man who begins to go to bed forty minutes before he opens his bedroom door is bored; that is to say, he is not living.

Slowly I swam up from the bottom of a black sleep.

The main facts in human life are five: birth, food, sleep, love and death.

Hail O mighty, fathomless sleep, come on and hug me tight and sweet; when I whisper those deepest pains, onto your ears mute and keen, sing for me the sweetest song that would sound the profoundest of life! Leave me upon your rocking arms, watched by spirits of placid nights!Goodnight, world, sweet dreams folks, blessed are those who would sleep at peace!

And they danced with laughter and tears. They swung each other round and round, the first and last time in years.

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

Never assume you are alone, because you never truly are. Only when your life has surely ended and your loved ones have forgotten you is when you are gone. Gone from this world and the next.Sleep is when you are most vulnerable. It’s a sanctuary and a curse; how you perceive it is up to you.

ENDURANCEI don't know you,But I love you,Just as God loves me and you.The sun and the moonAre opposing forces,But they still greet each other,Peacefully,As one awakens in the morning,Just as the other goes to sleep.Life has pounded me downAnd thrashed me around,Time and time again,But I always get right back up,Because I still love life -Just as the earth still lovesThe rain.

To be precise, there are three gems for healthy life: sufficient workouts, healthy food, and enough sleep.

They got under each of my shoulders and pulled me up, Padma walking in front of me and holding her arms out for good measure. I walked on my own, but I knew that if they hadn’t been there, I might have fallen more than once. Side by side, we marched into the Ocean, all of us crying for

Wouldn’t it have been better to conserve your strength and rest?” Ildiko mused after a moment. “I’ll sleep long and hard when I’m dead. You defy death by celebrating life.

I'm afraid we shall waste an awful lot of time.""Don't worry," answered Snufkin, "we shall have wonderful dreams, and when we wake up it'll be spring.

They should be going to sleep, but good company is the enemy of sleep.

I would like to sing someone to sleep,to sit beside someone and be there.I would like to rock you and sing softlyand go with you to and from sleep.I would like to be the one in the housewho knew: The night was cold.And I would like to listen in and listen outinto you, into the world, into the woods.The clocks shout to one another striking,and one sees to the bottom of time.And down below one last, strange man walks byand rouses a strange dog.And after that comes silence.I have laid my eyes upon you wide;and they hold you gently and let you gowhen something stirs in the dark.

Death is the final sleep that you never awaken from.

Am I sleeping? Have I slept at all? This is insomnia.

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.