Sleep Quotes

Sleep is a daily reminder from God that we are not God. Once a day God sends us to bed like patients with a sickness. The sickness is a chronic tendency to think we are in control and that our work is indispensable. To cure us of this disease God turns us into helpless sacks of sand once a day.

John Piper

Might there come a timeWhen we stand over a graveAnd mourn ourselves?Mourn the past, a previous life?Shall we weep for the passing of time?Shall we grieve for unfulfilled dreams?In my naivety; in my beliefIn immortal youth, I sleep walk through life.Someone... wake me up.Please.Wake me up.

Samantha Young

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.

Melanie Kay Taylor

Come on, baby. It’s time.”“You’re mean, Noah.”The blanket falls off her arm as I slide a finger down her shoulder. Goose bumps form along her skin at my touch. She may be cranky, but she’s responding.“A deal’s a deal,” I remind her.“I changed my mind. I’d rather sleep.” With her eyes still shut, she hunts for the cover, but I kick it off. She presses her lips together. “I’m serious. You’re the meanest person I know.”I kiss her neck then blow on the skin, pleased with the smile she’s fighting.“Does that feel mean?” I ask.“Horribly.” She giggles. “It’s torture.

Katie McGarry

I am here to tell youWe are all of us just as mighty as planets—and you too,We'll let you in, we've got stalwart to spare—But you might have to sleep on the floor.

Catherynne M. Valente

For the gaming fishermen there was the Whatoosie River and its native cocka-snoek, the main game fish of the resident Skegg’s Valley Dynamite Fishing Club. Cocka-snoek were wily and tough and rather too bright for mere fish. You wouldn’t catch much with a rod around here. Many inexperienced visitors would find the bait stolen from their hooks, which punctuated the discovery that their lines had somehow got snagged and tangled irretrievably around some underwater obstruction – sometimes tied together with neat little bows. Often, several direct hits with hand grenades were needed to stun the creatures long enough just to catch them, gut them and fry them, but these former military types had become experts at it. For a modest fee, tours could be arranged via the booking office, which included an overnight stay on the banks of the river where one could drop off to a great night’s sleep after a satisfying meal of cocka-snoek done on an open fire, and the sound the bits of shrapnel made rattling in your stomach.

Christina Engela

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

Gugu Mona

I slept so long and hard that when my mother woke me the next morning I was a stranger to myself.

Lauren Wolk

Do you Believe? Do you Fade like a Dream?Let me hear you BREATHELet me watch as you sleepThe Sparrow's Eyes... Promises shift into judgmentsI cannot deny that you were designed for my punishments

Slipknot

Some people wake up drowsy. Some people wake up energized. I wake up dead.

John Marsden

Daytime sleep is like the sin of the flesh; the more you have the more you want, and yet you feel unhappy, sated and unsated at the same time.

Umberto Eco

When the world falls asleep, authors weave the stories that are called dreams.. and when authors dare to jot down.. that's called making dreams come true.

Vikrmn

Westward on the high-hilled plainsWhere for me the world began, Still, I think, in newer veinsFrets the changeless blood of man....There, when hueless is the westAnd the darkness hushes wide,Where the lad lies down to restStands the troubled dream beside.There, on thoughts that once were mine,Day looks down the eastern steep,And the youth at morning shineMakes the vow he will not keep.

A.E. Housman

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

Sanober Khan

But space shrinks when you get old, and things lose their wonder, and the wisest thing to do then is to try your best to sleep.

Dexter Palmer

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.

Marilynne Robinson

There were days when I still put on make up in case you’d come back,but I wear the same clothes and shower in the rainand eat when I can and sleep when I can,which is rare and not often,so if you’d see me nowon these streetswhere I once imagined walking with youyou’d have a hard time recognising me.I takes a lot to run away.

Charlotte Eriksson

Perhaps a seemingly dull, boring person is not a person who lacks personality, but rather a person with so much personality most other things bore them.

Criss Jami

I firmly believe that life is made up of moments. Some are significant, and some are disposable. Some sit at the edge of your awareness and taunt you when you're trying to sleep, and others fade into the background noise of life. But every moment, no matter how small, has the potential to create or destroy you.

Cecily White

In between waking up from bed in the morning and going back in the evening, let something happen. God will bless that “something” for you.

Israelmore Ayivor

If the reason of your sleeplessness is competition, then you will make a successful businessman.

Amit Kalantri

For a while she cried silently until she tired herself out and the overwhelming feeling of sleepiness overcame her. The room around her was fairly silent, although she wasn’t the only one crying herself to sleep. It was quite common at places like this to hear cries in the dark. There were so many saddened and lonesome souls around her. It was usually at night when they were reminded of just how sad and lonely they actually were.

Jason Medina

In the biggest and the smallest I sleep but at the same place I stay.

Dejan Stojanovic

Life will hack off your head and shit down your neck every chance it gets. I've found that consuming drugs and booze, listening to music and always having an excuse in the best way to tip the scales.

Dave Matthes

Sitting in a corner, I live like a toad Oh! How I love my room: my tiny abode! Here I wake up; and I sleep in hereThe world far away; yet virtually near Not that I'm jailed in this place of graceJust don't want to face another face

Munia Khan

Never give a conscious meaning to your unconscious acts!

Ramana Pemmaraju

The paint is drying, and time is dying. The pain is crying, lying on my back, trying to get back the time, to brushstrokes too fast, wet went dry and love went dull; now I live in a portrait I never painted.

Anthony Liccione

If I was meant to be controlled, I would have come with a remote.

Genereux Philip

Bitch, if I ain't a G, I'm an OG

Genereux Philip

There are really two essential things in campaigning. First, you must be in good humor. If you're going to be a raffle, you are to stay home. Second, you are to make sense in your speeches. These aren't the two things you must do. Unless you're saying, if you can be in good humor when you're exhausted. – Henry Cabot Lodge

David Pietrusza

In time, he began to see the details that held us like invisible stitches together. The scars we held within, the tears despite our dry faces. He saw the little sigh that came with the song. The way our breathing became labored even though nothing seemed wrong. He peeked into the aimless gaze of daydreamers, reliving their worst moments, commending them on being so strong.

Hubert Martin

I was burdened with an ever-growing heart on the verge of decay. To save myself, I had to give many pieces of my love away. I hope I can give it all to someone, someday.

Hubert Martin

She was an echo masquerading as a shadow and she followed me just the same. The night and its moon were her favor while the sunrise and sunlight the daggers that sliced her to ribbons. She looked through half closed eyes at a blind world filled with wide eyes staring at walls. She felt pity with no care while around here steamed a burden too dense to bear. In the hours before dawn her tears slide to her jaw as a soft song escapes from between her cracked lips. A barbed song of glory and woe that hugs her tight and steals her breath, each line a quiver, every word a bind. A cage in her image meant to be broken. Destroy and recreate, scar after scar shallow and deep, her dreams were her life and the nightmares her sleep. Dark circles under eyes that truly see, time while awake moves more slowly. It trickles past her, eroding her being and pulling on her delicate seams. She unravels a little each day, tucking the threads back in every which way. In the night she is flawless and clear, the moonlight dancing in swirls, throwing half formed monograms against her wall. She traces these curves and whispers her story, an imprint in an ocean of churning shadows. Her imagination plays a scene of a teary-eyed embrace on the shores of a former dream, where droplets of her soul fell wildly below, where they and her became a part of a much larger whole. A smile rips her taunt and clenched face, the memory of the feeling of an unreal embrace. She holds herself tightly in a corner with no light and shudders with every pinprick of the downpour of night. Though muffled by the glass of her self imposed flask, she hears the birds singing their song, the natural alarm of impending light. She waits patiently for the sun, counting the half seconds and making time slow, her grey eyes less than aimless and staring at the clouds. With half closed eyes now shining a golden haloed blue, she watches the sky change colors from soft to brilliant hue. The flood of life and color takes her by surprise every day and which way. The rip cuts a little more, her restless thoughts take note and pause. She just wants to scream. To swallow the vibrant light and flood her veins with all the color ever seen, a strange desire to fix what is broken and yet wanting to break. She loses count of the seconds in the wrinkles of her palms, mere dust to wind, ashes to gale. She recites the deadly seven and stops at lust, how different from love while still the same in a twisted way. Her knees press against the worn, wooden floor with no intent to pray, she just wants the numbness and the pain. There are some things right and a few that are wrong, feeling the breath of freedom tapered against the need to belong, The sun now vomits its light across the cragged horizon, illuminating manmade lines and verdurous fuzz, her rip widens in distaste and her mind frowns in disgust. Her heart hangs limp as a shattered mirror reflecting its own cracks, each inaudible beat a glimmer of a glimpse of something more than her created deceit. This is hope. In a fragile and faceted way, the reflects are abyss and ascension portrayed intertwined with no ties holding them together. She is the half second of the transition of the beat, the moment her heart begins to flex and show more than bones and maneuverable meat. She wonders about the subtle difference between spirit and soul and whether she needs only one or both to be whole. Shaking her head as if to dislodge her thoughts, they steer from the tracks and tumble and crash, destruction and turmoil birthing creation and a new path. She thinks about the way she thinks and comes full triangle, it feels right to be so jagged rather than unburdened as a circle. With a sigh and a breath, she stands against the weight of her shoulders and the unbalance of her feet. Her half closed eyes slowly fade to grey as the light and color in the sky changes and decays. She is the moments before the sun rises and sets-1-2-3

Hubert Martin

I don’t know why we fight.It takes much too effort to stay mad at you.To dodge your skin in the hallwayand leave the kitchen without bringing you a treat.It takes much too effort to stare at the sinkso my eyes don’t smile at you in the mirror.It takes much too effort to look away as we undressand lie apart in the now bigger bed.It takes much too effort to stiffen my bodybecause sleepy limbs forget fightsand pride is always lost in dreams.It takes much too effort to awaken every hour to make sure we are islands with a gulf of white sheets separating us.I dread the light peeking through the parted curtainsand empathise with your groans —I didn’t get any sleep either.I really don’t know why we fight.It takes much too effort to stay mad at one anotherwhen it’s so easy for us to love.

Kamand Kojouri

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.

Suzy Kassem

Never go to bed mad. Stay up and fight.

Phyllis Diller

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.

Roman Payne

there is some achingthat will only heal...in the mosque of sleep.

Sanober Khan

This I would wish, that there was no time or sleep. No more past, or future, and everything we did was good the first time, for the day. Without the need of looking back to learn from the past, and no future to hope for the better. No more tiredness, or having a need to dream, and no nightmares to fear. If there was a second time, this is how I would like to start over.

Anthony Liccione

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.

Gregory David Roberts

It's the smell of him in the bathroom, all I need to get ready for the day. Watching him get dressed, and the sound in the kitchen; a slow hum of a song and his movements, picking things to eat. The way I could observe him, for hours, just go on with his day – or as he sleeps – simply breathing in and out, in and out, and it's like the hymn that sings me to peace. I know the world is still out there and I know I'm not yet friendly to its pace, but as long as I know him with me, here, there, somewhere – us – I know I have a chance.

Charlotte Eriksson

God's creatures who cried themselves to sleep stirred to cry again.

Thomas Harris

Like it or not, there are people who are capable to love genuinely and kill brutally. The amazing thing about that, few of those could even sleep well like babies in the night.

Toba Beta

I've crossed some kind of invisible line. I feel as if I've come to a place I never thought I'd have to come to. And I don't know how I got here. It's a strange place. It's a place where a little harmless dreaming and then some sleepy, early-morning talk has led me into considerations of death and annihilation.

Raymond Carver

Sleep Quotes

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