Turn on its noiseless hinges, delicate sleep!
Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast.
Not being able to sleep is terrible. You have the misery of having partied all night... without the satisfaction.
Sleep is perverse as human nature, Sleep is perverse as a legislature, Sleep is as forward as hives or goiters, And where it is least desired, it loiters.
Sleep is pain's easiest salve, and doth fulfill all the offices of death, except to kill
Life is too short to sleep on low thread-count sheets.
Slothfulness casteth into a deep sleep; and an idle soul shall suffer hunger.
Resting on your laurels is as dangerous as resting when you are walking in the snow. You doze off and die in your sleep.
One has to reach to the absolute state of awareness: that is Zen. You cannot do it every morning for a few minutes or for half an hour and then forget all about it. It has to become like your heartbeat. You have to sit in it, you have to walk in it. Yes, you have even to sleep in it.
If gays are granted rights, next we'll have to give rights to prostitutes and to people who sleep with St. Bernards and to nailbiters.
In their dreams at night, people wander around as long as they sleep; just so, they are under the power of the snake Maya, as long as their hearts are filled with ego and duality.
Mankind . . . possesses two supreme blessings. First of these is the goddess Demeter, or Earth whichever name you choose to call her by. It was she who gave to man his nourishment of grain. But after her there came the son of Semele, who matched her present by inventing liquid wine as his gift to man. For filled with that good gift, suffering mankind forgets its grief; from it comes sleep; with it oblivion of the troubles of the day. There is no other medicine for misery.
I am not a complete vegetarian. I eat only animals that have died in their sleep
So far as drinking is concerned, you have my hearty approval; for wine does of a truth moisten the soul and lull our griefs to sleep....[and with small cups] we shall ...be brought by its gentle persuasion to a more sportive mood
A dying man needs to die, as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong, as well as useless, to resist.
Death--the last sleep? No, it is the final awakening.
A poet's work is to name the unnameable,
to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments,
shape the world, and stop it going to sleep.
Mortality / Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep.
Laugh and the world laughs with you, snore and you sleep alone.
If you can take criticism and blame without resentment, If you can face the world without lies and deceit, If you can conquer tension without medical help, If you can relax without liquor, If you can sleep without the aid of drugs, Then, you are almo.
Dad never had time to relax. When we were young, he`d get us off to school before he`d go to work as a controller for a nine-hour day, come home, make dinner, make sure we got our homework done, then go right to sleep and do it all over again the next morning. - Chad says of his father`s hectic work and family juggling act.
... were in her lap. Cinderella dozed upon a fold of her skirt. Dorinda had been undressed and rocked to sleep at sunset. Preciosa had gone upstairs at the same time. I saw her lying upon the foot of our bed after supper, her eyes narrowed to slender slits with sleep or slyness. I had a shrewd impression that if I were to go upstairs now I should not find her in the same place. Instead of verifying the surmise in this way I stole noiselessly out of the family group, sauntering along carelessly until ...
Let him not sleep alone in a deserted dwelling, let him not wake ,a superior who is sleeping, let him not converse with a menstruating woman, nor let him go to a sacrifice, if he is not chosen ,to be officiating priest.
President Barack Obama. President Barack Obama. Nope, still can't get used to it. It's literally too good to be true. I must've died in my sleep and am now having an insane fantasy pumped into my head by the Matrix. Any minute now Salma Hayek is going to float through the door with a tray of biscuits and I'll know the game's up.
Many days later another caravan was passing and a man saw something on top of the highest dune there. And when they went up to see, they found Outka, Mimouna and Aicha; they were still there, lying the same way as when they had gone to sleep. And all three of the glasses... were full of sand. That was how they had their tea in the Sahara.