Baby Asleep Quotes & Sayings

By the Lady's never-sucked teats!"
"Elas Sil!"
"Oh shut up! I'm a woman, I can curse about things like that. Wait, it's not as dark up ahead. Come on, and hasn't that baby of yours been asleep a long time? You sure it's not dead?"
"Wel, it peed on me halfway down that last corridor, and last I looked it was smiling."
"Huh. It ever amazes me women get talked into motherhood. — Steven Erikson

Shirley, "the little brown boy," as he was known in the family "Who's Who," was asleep in Susan's arms. He was brown-haired, brown-eyed and brown-skinned, with very rosy cheeks, and he was Susan's especial love. After his birth Anne had been very ill for a long time, and Susan "mothered" the baby with a passionate tenderness which none of the other children, dear as they were to her, had ever called out. Dr. Blythe had said that but for her he would never have lived. "I — L.M. Montgomery

MICHAEL WAS STILL FILMING. HE HAD ALREADY used up two cartridges recording the nervousness in the waiting room and was working on the third. Things were getting monotonous. But he kept filming. It was either that or fall asleep, and he refused to fall asleep. He didn't care if it was four in the morning, he wasn't missing the birth of Leigh's baby. Of course, it might have been nice if they'd let him into the delivery room with Leigh and Jon. Videographers did that all the time. Okay, so he had a cold. Wasn't that what dentist's masks were for? — Barbara Delinsky

You may adore Love You Forever, but I hear it as a story about an overbearing and smothering mother who infantilizes her son and can only tell him she loves him when he is fast asleep. I also contend that she drugs his cocoa. And that when the man's baby daughter wakes up sixteen years later and finds him fondling her in her room, she will be calling 911 and going into therapy. — Jane Yolen

But then in March '92, the Rodney King verdict came down... And the city had lost its collective mind and was trying to burn itself to the ground.

Ju had caught one woman climbing out of the shattered glass of a pharmacy, not like she was the only one, just the one Ju had caught... The woman stood there holding her loot, face devoid of expression. In her hands she held two packages of Pampers, a can of roach spray, and a Pepsi.

'They be climbing over the baby when he asleep,' the woman said by way of explanation. 'The cockroaches, I mean.'

Ju took the Pampers and the roach killer. Then she cuffed the lady and out her in the van with the others.
Because that was the job. — Sunil Yapa

This body. This body Dan wanted to possess, and together they made a baby, asleep right now in the very next room. She tells herself that he's alive, that he's well, though some instinct in her tells her, every so often, that the baby is dead, that she needs to rush to his side. Either this will pass, or it never will. This is motherhood. — Rumaan Alam

At midnight the would-be ascetic announced: "This is the time to give up my home and seek for God. Ah, who has held me so long in delusion here?" God whispered, "I," but the ears of the man were stopped. With a baby asleep at her breast lay his wife, peacefully sleeping on one side of the bed. The man said, "Who are ye that have fooled me so long?" The voice said again, "They are God," but he heard it not. The baby cried out in its dream, nestling close to its mother. God commanded, "Stop, fool, leave not thy home," but still he heard not. God sighed and complained, "Why does my servant wander to seek me, forsaking me? — Rabindranath Tagore

Ruislip, the Fop's opponent, resembled a bad dream one might have if one fell asleep watching sumo wrestling on the television with a Bob Marley record playing in the background. He was a huge Rastafarian who looked like nothing so much as an obese and enormous baby. — Neil Gaiman

You did it," I said, my voice quiet and drowsy. "Did what, sugar?" "Today, at the Compound, what you said, you did it." "What, baby?" "I dreamed a dream." His arms spasmed. I drifted to sleep, muttering, "You promised to get me to a dream, you got me to a dream. Thank you, honey." Then I fell asleep. — Kristen Ashley

This is your baby sister, Christian. Her name is Mia."
Mommy lets me hold her. She is very small. With black, black hair.
She smiles. She has no teeth. I stick out my tongue. She has a bubbly laugh.
Mommy lets me hold the baby again. Her name is Mia.
I make her laugh. I hold her and hold her. She is safe when I hold her.
Elliot is not interested in Mia. She dribbles and cries.
And he wrinkles his nose when she does a poop.
When Mia is crying Elliot ignores her. I hold her and hold her and she stops.
She falls asleep in my arms.
"Mee a," I whisper.
"What did you say?! Mommy asks, and her face is white like a chalk.
"Mee a."
"Yes. Yes. Darling boy. Mia. Her name is Mia."
And Mommy starts to cry with happy, happy tears. — E.L. James

The Reticular Activating System The May 1957 issue of Scientific American magazine contains an article describing the discovery of the reticular formation at the base of the brain. The reticular formation is basically the gateway to your conscious awareness; it's the switch that turns on your perception of ideas and data, the thing that keeps you asleep even when music's playing but wakes you if a special little baby cries in another room. Your automatic creative mechanism is teleological. That is, it operates in terms of goals and end results. Once you give it a definite goal to achieve, you can depend upon its automatic guidance system to take you to that goal much better than "you" ever could by conscious thought. "You" supply the goal by thinking in terms of end results. Your automatic mechanism then supplies the means whereby. - Maxwell Maltz — David Allen

No one who has seen a baby sinking back satiated from the breast and falling asleep with flushed cheeks and a blissful smile can escape the reflection that this picture persists as a prototype of the expression of sexual satisfaction in later life. — Sigmund Freud

But that was long ago. She has long since lost interest in motives, in the details of other women's crimes. Even the hatchet makes its usual sense. A mother who loves her child with all her self is only so far from the hatchet anyway; one casual swing and it's done. Hatred, love, all muddled up in that space inside a whisper, when the words don't matter anymore, when the baby's half asleep and you can carry it all the way there if you want, on nothing but the tone of your voice. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. Sing it as softly as you like - the words clench their own teeth. The child still falls. — Emily Ruskovich

Sara had given me the look. The don't fall asleep before I come to bed look. The I'm still not over the sight of our baby sleeping on your naked chest look. The you're getting very, extremely laid look. I fucking loved my life. — Christina Lauren

I remembered lying there in my wet panties, going, "What do I do now?" Jason was asleep, but even if he hadn't been, I wouldn't have told him what had happened. I was convinced I'd never have heard the end of it. "Wet the bed like a baby!" he'd cry. Well, knowing Jason, he probably wouldn't have said any such thing. But in my feverish four-year-old brain, I was convinced he wouldn't want to be my friend anymore if he knew I was a bed wetter. Also, of course, it would come up every time I beat him at anything: "Well, okay, maybe you're better at Candy Land, but at least I'm not a bed wetter. — Meg Cabot

She gazes over at baby Genevieve, who is now asleep in Kevin's arms, and thinks, I really don't have any words of advice at all. The world is an endlessly confounding place. — Elin Hilderbrand

My baby is five. She falls asleep in my arms ... Her breath is warm on my face, all that is alive and warm and breathing inside of her now, falling upon me, and I can't capture it, hold it, this, her life now, me in this moment. She is leaving me, she's growing up and moving away from me, and she stirs and I sweep back the crop of the golden ringlets. Stay, Little One, stay. Love's a deep wound and what is a mother without a child and why can't I hold on to now forever and her here and me here and why does time snatch away a heart I don't think mine can beat without? Why do we all have to grow old? Why do we have to keep saying good-bye? — Ann Voskamp

When Lars first held her, his heart melted over her like butter on warm bread, and he would never get it back. When mother and baby were asleep in the hospital room, he went out to the parking lot, sat in his Dodge Omni, and cried like a man who had never wanted anything in his life until now. — J. Ryan Stradal

Here a pretty Baby lies Sung asleep with Lullabies: Pray be silent, and not stirre The easie earth that covers her. — Robert Herrick

Her eyes opened then. They were drowsy, slumberous, staring up at him with a hunger that was impossible to miss. "I felt you," she whispered, a smile tilting her moist lips. "Watching me. Should I feel you watching me?" Was she asleep or awake? "Of course." He found the growl building in his throat. "Every time I look at you, baby, I touch you. — Lora Leigh

You been asleep, baby."
My body went still at his words.
Tack kept talking.
"Green tea. Yoga. No TV. Placemats for your coffee table. Thursday night takeaway. You got a night for takeaway. Scheduled. A narrow, little world. Fuck me. Crazy. Fuckin' whacked. I woke you up, opened your eyes to a bigger world and scared you shitless. — Kristen Ashley

In this world of plenty, a tiny baby, who does not yet understand the mystery of the world, is allowed to cry and cry and finally fall asleep without the milk she needs to survive. — Muhammad Yunus

If there is electricity in every village, people will watch TV till late night and then fall asleep. They won't get a chance to produce children. When there is no electricity, there is nothing else to do but produce babies. — Ghulam Nabi Azad

The first time I walked into the room and saw Naya asleep on Lucas's chest while he slept, too, his hand over her naked baby butt ... " Sascha sighed, rubbing a fist over her heart. "I don't think I've recovered. — Nalini Singh

Sleep my baby, rock-a-bye,
On the edge you must not lie.
Wolf the Fluffy roams astray,
Will he grab you, drag away?
Into Furthest Darkest Woods,
Hide you under Willow roots?
There birdies chirp and squeak,
Will they let you fall asleep? — Stanislaw Sielicki

One year, on Yom Kippur eve, Salanter did not show up in synagogue for services. The congregation was extremely worried; they could only imagine that their rabbi had suddenly taken sick or been in an accident. In any case, they would not start the service without him. During the wait, a young woman in the congregation became agitated. She had left her infant child at home asleep in its crib; she was certain she would only be away a short while. Now, because of the delay, she slipped out to make sure that the infant was all right. When she reached her house, she found her child being rocked in the arms of Rabbi Salanter. He had heard the baby crying while walking to the synagogue and, realizing that the mother must have gone off to services, had gone into the house to calm him. — Joseph Telushkin

In a louder voice than I'd intended, I say, "Hey, beautiful."
"Shhh!" She attacks. "If you wake that baby, I'll pluck out every pubic hair you have the next time you fall asleep."
My eyes widen. She's been spending way too much time with Delores these days. — Emma Chase

My work has to do with a defense against fervor. People are always in a rush. To do what? To do nothing! There is a kind of fervor that is completely meaningless. This drawing is a call for meditation ... I am an insomniac, so for me the state of being asleep is paradise. It is a paradise I can never reach. But I still try to conquer the insomnia, and to a large extent I have done it; it is conquerable. My drawings are a kind of rocking or stroking and an attempt at finding peace. Peaceful rhythm. Like rocking a baby to sleep. — Louise Bourgeois

The White Seal Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us, And black are the waters that sparkled so green. The moon, o'er the combers, looks downward to find us At rest in the hollows that rustle between. Where billow meets billow, then soft be thy pillow, Ah, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease! The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee, Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas! Seal Lullaby — Rudyard Kipling

Ow!" Aideen suddenly hollered which earned a bark from my bedroom.
"Go back asleep you fat shite!" Aideen shouted when I swiped the antiseptic wipe over a small cut above her eye.
I hissed at her, "Leave him alone, he isn't fat. He just has a thick coat!"
Aideen laughed through her hissing. "Yeah, a thick coat of blubber."
I gave her a firm look. "Don't slag me baby when I'm cleanin' you up. Me finger might slip and jam into your eye. — L.A. Casey

Later that night, feeling restless, I get out of bed, creep into Linus's room, and watch him sleeping in his crib. He's lying on his back, wearing blue feety pajamas, one arm up over his head. I listen to his deep-sleep exhales. Even years past those fragile newborn months, it still gives my maternal ears relief and peace to hear the sounds of my children breathing when they're asleep. His orange nukie is in his mouth, the silky edge of his favorite blanket is touching his cheek, and Bunny is lying limp across his chest. He's surrounded by every kind of baby security paraphernalia imaginable, and yet none of it protected him from what could have happened today. — Lisa Genova

I want to remember warming your two a.m. bottle, clipping your locks, watching you be baptized, bathing you in the big porcelain sink ... how I often laid you against my chest and felt the cradlesong of your tiny breaths as you fell asleep ... — Carew Papritz

It's not difficult to take care of a child; it's difficult to do anything else while taking care of a child. Trying to clean up the kitchen after you've had a baby is a nightmare because you have to wait for the baby to be asleep, you're exhausted, and you really don't want to clean up the kitchen now. — Julianne Moore