Beds And Sleep Quotes & Sayings

THE OTHER DAY I HAD INSOMNIA AND I MADE MY CATS A WATER BED OUT OF A ZIPLOC BAG AND A SHOEBOX. THEY POPPED IT WITH THEIR CLAWS AND THEY ALMOST DROWNED. THEN I TRIED TO PUT BABY SOCKS AROUND THEIR FEET BUT THEY KEPT PULLING THEM OFF SO I TRIED WRAPPING RUBBER BANDS AROUND THE SOCK HEMS AND THEN MY HUSBAND WOKE UP WHILE I WAS PINNING ONE OF THE CATS DOWN TO PUT THE SOCK ON HIM AND HE WAS ALL, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHY ARE THESE CATS ALL WET?" AND I WAS LIKE, "I'M TRYING TO HELP THEM ENJOY WATER BEDS," AND THEN VICTOR MADE ME GO TO SLEEP. IT WAS A DISAPPOINTMENT TO EVERYONE INVOLVED. — Jenny Lawson

It was the scale, the extremity of things here that made an impression on her: the two beds in their double room that could comfortably sleep three people each; the throaty clunking of the machine down the corridor that ejected fat glinting ice cubes, tumbling like coins from a jackpotting fruit machine; the toothache temperature of the Cokes from the mini bar (she had never known drinks to be so cold); the improbable proportions of the cars on the freeway; the sleek gleefulness of the morning TV presenters with drawls so sassy they sounded put on; the enormity of the breakfasts and the people who ate them. America seemed souped-up to JoAnne, as though it had to be bigger, better, colder, hotter, cheerier, louder, just all-round "er" than everywhere else. — Tina Seskis

Mr. Robbins let slip that he had not been
sleeping well. He'd given up his room at the lodging house to a lady traveling by herself,
who'd come into Nowshera too tired to stand, when Nowshera was overrun and beds
impossible to find. When the lady left, the landlord had given the room to someone else,
leaving Mr. Robbins to sleep in rather atrocious places."
"Dear me," said Lady Vera.
"He didn't know it, but that lady was Mrs. Marsden. And I, for one, will always be grateful
that he helped her when there was absolutely nothing in it for him."
Lady Vera set down her tea. She reached forward and took Leo's hands. "Thank you, Mr.
Marsden. Sometimes I forget that beneath Michael's ambition, there is not a void, but much
kindness. Thank you for reminding me. — Sherry Thomas

Look, he's curled up in his bed sound asleep. You must have been dreaming." "That dog shouldn't be sleeping in here anyway. He snores." "Well, yes, but so do you." With that, Nic threw off the bedcovers and padded into the master bathroom. Gabe scowled down at the dog. He had plenty of places to sleep - Nic had dog beds scattered in almost every room in the house. "It's about time I assert myself as the alpha dog in the pack," Gabe declared. From now on, the boxer would be banished from the bedroom. As — Emily March

It's sunny today, the light glowing through the white curtains. I don't know how, but the dormitory smells like sleep-like laundry and shoes and night sweats and morning coffee. Some of the beds are made, and some still have rumpled sheets bunched up at the bottom or the side. — Veronica Roth

God does speak - now one way, now another - though no one perceives it. 15In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls on people as they slumber in their beds, 16he may speak in their ears and terrify them with warnings, 17to turn them from wrongdoing and keep them from pride, 18to preserve them from the pit, their lives from perishing by the sword.[55] — Zondervan Publishing

Thus we do disagreeable things, but we are defensive. That, I think, is still fair. We do disagreeable things so that ordinary people here and elsewhere can sleep safely in their beds at night. Is that too romantic? Of course, we occasionally do very wicked things"; he grinned like a schoolboy. "And in weighing up the moralities, we rather go in for dishonest comparisons; after all, you can't compare the ideals of one side with the methods of the other, can you, now? — John Le Carre

How stand I, then,
That have a father killed, a mother stained,
Excitements of my reason and my blood,
And let all sleep, while to my shame I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men
That for a fantasy and trick of fame
Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough and continent
To hide the slain? O, from this time forth
My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth!
He exits. — William Shakespeare

Sometimes they'll make little Play-Doh animals, and when they go to sleep, I'll break the heads off the animals and put them at the foot of their beds for them to discover in the morning. Nothing wrong with sending your kids a little Sicilian message. — Jerry Seinfeld

Some astronauts sleep in sort of beds - compartments that you can open up and crawl into and then close up, almost like a little bedroom. — Sally Ride

Any second... now? No. I am a 'mourning person. Not because anybody close to me has recently passed away, but because I use that term to describe my demeanour at daybreak and as a way of separating myself from what are known as 'morning people' - those high-functioning, grinning morons, who skip out their beds and pounce at the dawn as eagerly and energetically as a young puppy greets a hanging shoelace.
My mornings are (with the exception of Christmas Day) dark and sombre affairs, spent grieving the sleep of which I've been robbed; morning is when blades of daylight hack viciously at the dreams that have kept you company through the night. — Jon Richardson

The world," said Pavone, "will swing to the left. The whole world except America. The world will swing, not because people read Karl Marx, or because agitators will come out of Russia, but because, after the war is over, that will be the only way they can turn. Everything else will have been tried, everything else will have failed. And I am afraid that American will be isolated, hated, backward, we will all be living there like old maids in a lonely house in the woods, locking the doors, looking under the beds, with a fortune in the mattress, not being able to sleep, because every time the wind blows and a floor creaks, we will think the murderers are breaking in to kill us and take our treasure ... — Irwin Shaw

How can we preserve our planet on which little girls are supposed to sleep in their beds, and not lie dead on the road with unplaited pigtails? And so that childhood would never again be called war-time childhood. — Svetlana Alexievich

In the evening, when everything is tired and quiet, I sit with Walt Whitman by the rose beds and listen to what that lonely and beautiful spirit has to tell me of night, sleep, death, and the stars. This dusky, silent hour is his; and this is the time when I can best hear the beatings of that most tender and generous heart. — Elizabeth Von Arnim

One time we stayed at a B&B, and there were a couple of hippies who had this nice little area and they let us sleep in their beds that they had in the back.Then the woman suggested we go out and lie on some cushions and look up at the stars and look for UFOs and she said, "You know, I do this all the time," and I was like, "Okay ... " So there we are, lying there next to this amazing loch, and we're looking up in the stars and I don't really know what I was expecting, but to see some sort of metallic object. — Rhys Darby

Anna had read books about people in the cities going camping. They would leave their comfortable homes and beds and deliberately sleep in tents, on the ground, then cook their food outside over an open fire instead of in a well-stocked kitchen. She couldn't imagine something so ridiculous. — Gail Sattler

Wouldn't it be nice if all the people who are lonesome could live in one big dormitory, sleep in beds next to each other, talk, laugh, and keep the lights on as long as they want to? — Lenny Bruce

I love Samui in the wee small hours. I especially love it on nights like this when the white moon stares down from the blackness like the pockmarked eye of a blind god. At such times, when the island's bright signs have paled to grey and the broom of sleep has swept the revellers to their beds, my mind's cynical crust cracks open a little, and some fanciful poetry leaks in. Then the dark hills appear to me as slumbering prehistoric leviathans, the clouds assume the air of restless ghosts, and the moon-dusted sea murmurs in some long forgotten tongue of the divine. — John Dolan

We owe it to our troops to let them sleep in their own beds, wake up in the morning, have a delicious breakfast, and drive to war. — Daniel Tosh

We also sleep in separate beds. Hers is in California and mine is in Texas — Red Skelton

He watched the squares of buttery light inside the houses, and people going about their business. He thought of how they would settle in their beds and try to sleep through their dreams. It struck him again how much he cared, and how relieved he was that they were somehow safe and warm while he was free to keep walking. — Rachel Joyce

We are only chance visitants to this jungle of blind mutations. The natural world existed when we did not, and it will continue to exist long after we are gone. The supernatural crept into life only when the door of consciousness was opened in our heads. The moment we stepped through that door, we walked out on nature. Say what we will about it and deny it till we die
we are blighted by our knowing what is too much to know and too secret to tell one another if we are to stride along our streets, work at our jobs, and sleep in our beds. It is the knowledge of a race of beings that is only passing through this shoddy cosmos. — Thomas Ligotti

Answer me when I call to you,
O my righteous God.
Give me relief from my distress;
be merciful to me and hear my prayer.
How long, O men, will you turn my glory into shame?
How long will you love delusions and seek false gods?
Know that the Lord has set apart the godly for himself;
the Lord will hear when I call to him.
In your anger do not sin;
When you are on your beds,
search your hearts and be silent.
Offer the right sacrifices
and trust in the Lord.
Many are asking, "Who can show us any good?"
Let the light of your face shine upon us, O Lord.
You have filled my heart with greater joy
than when their grain and new wine abound.
I will lie down and sleep in peace
for you alone, O Lord,
make me to dwell in safety. — King David

You dare laugh at the fall of Suyodhana and all the noble men like Bhishma, my father, Karna, and the others who fought for him? Read Jaya to know how Karna rejected the temptation to become Emperor and instead chose to stand by the man who had given him everything when he had nothing. Read how Karna was trapped by own nobility, how impossible promises were extracted from him; know how he was shot while extracting the wheel of his chariot that was stuck in the mud. Know that Arjuna did not keep his word, as any honourable warrior would have done, when he failed to kill Jayadratha before sunset, hiding behind the lame excuse that the sunset had been maya, an illusion created by an avatar. Sleep in your beds peacefully by all means, if your conscience still allows you to do so, you lucky devils. — Anand Neelakantan

Above it all drifted a silvery scythe blade of moon. Wayne looked up at it, and away, and then looked again. The moon had a hooked nose, a thoughtfully frowning mouth, and a single eye closed in sleep. When it exhaled, a wind rippled across the plains and silvery beds of cloud raced through the night. Wayne almost clapped his hands in delight to look upon it. — Joe Hill

He says-him as was here just now-'When Tom shut up the house, mate, to go to rack, the beds was left, all made, like as if somebody was a-going to sleep in every bed. And if you was to walk through the bedrooms now, you'd see the ragged mouldy bedclothes a heaving and a heaving like seas. And a heaving and a heaving with what?' he says. 'Why, with the rats under 'em.' — Charles Dickens

The day returns and brings us the petty round of irritating concerns and duties.
Help us to play the man,
Help us to perform them with laughter and kind faces,
Let cheerfulness abound with industry.
Give us to go blithely on our business all this day,
Bring us to our resting beds weary and content and undishonoured,
And grant us in the end the gift of sleep. — Robert Louis Stevenson

We're introducing separate rooms with double beds in all of our planes so people can actually go with their partner and have a proper night's sleep. — Richard Branson

That's how it is, Rocamadour: in Paris we're like fungus, we grow on the railings of staircases, in dark rooms with greasy smells, where people make love all the time and then fry some eggs and put on Vivaldi records, light cigarettes ... and outside there are all sorts of things, the windows open onto the air and it all begins with a sparrow or a gutter, it rains a lot here, rocamadour, much more than in the country, and things get rusty ... we don't have many clothes, we get along with so few, a good overcoat, some shoes to keep the rain out, we're very dirty, everybody is dirty and good-looking in Paris, Rocamadour, the beds smell of night and deep sleep, dust and books underneath. — Julio Cortazar

It was the world-without-adults daydream. In my dream I'd never quite figured out where the adults went but we kids were free to roam, to help ourselves to anything we wanted. We'd pick up a Merc from a showroom when we wanted wheels, and when it ran out of petrol we'd get another one. We'd change cars the way I change socks. We'd sleep in different mansions every night, going to new houses instead of putting new sheets on the beds. Life would be one long party.
Yes, that had been the dream. — John Marsden

Everything I see reminds me that in a few days I shall no longer see it ... It's horrible ... I shall see nothing more ... nothing of what exists ... the smallest objects that we use ... glasses ... plates ... beds where people sleep so comfortably ... carriages. It's so lovely, going out in a carriage, in the evening ... How much I enjoyed all that! — Guy De Maupassant

My conflicts of conscience are about the only battles I'm fighting these days, and I'm willing to fight until the end. There is something freeing
about this life, about living out of a single backpack and disappearing into the night. About smelling terrible and never remembering people's names. About never having to say you're sorry. We exist outside of society. We stay up late and sleep even later. We
are bandits, pirates, serial killers. The dregs. Someone should lock us up and never let us out again. But instead, they give us their money, they offer us their beds. We are not
going to pay for the beer. We are not going to be back here for a good, long while. We have prior engagements. We have the money in a duffel bag. We have no shame. Fuck guilt. Back to life. — Pete Wentz

Do but consider what an excellent thing sleep is ... that golden chain that ties health and our bodies together. Who complains of want? of wounds? of cares? of great men's oppressions? of captivity? whilst he sleepeth? Beggars in their beds take as much pleasure kings: can we therefore surfeit on this delicate Ambrosia? Can we drink too much of that whereof to taste too little tumbles us into a churchyard, and to use it but indifferently throws us into Bedlam? No, no, look upon Endymion, the moon's minion, who slept three score and fifteen years, and was not a hair the worse for it. — Thomas Dekker

Organized force alone enables the quiet and the weak to go about their business and to sleep securely in their beds, safe from the violent without or within. — Alfred Thayer Mahan

I didn't seem to exist, except in relation to her. I would watch her sleep across the roomfromme, one long shadow linking our beds, and I would count the ways. Poison, sprinkled on her cereal. A wicked undertow off the beach. Lightning striking. — Anonymous

Without saying anything, Dara gathered her pillow and one of the soft comforters from her bed and carried it into Carolina's room. Mackenzie and Jennifer followed her. They would sleep in her room that night, keeping the ice packs around her, adjusting the fan. One by one they fixed their make-shift beds on the floor, close to each other, and close to Carolina. — Barbara Casey

Meanwhile the 3 a.m. drunks of the world would lay in their beds, trying in vain to sleep, and deserving that rest, if they could find it. — Charles Bukowski

He finally pulled it all back into his heart, sucking in the painful tide of his misery. In the Glade, Chuck had become a symbol for him - a beacon that somehow they could make everything right again in the world. Sleep in beds. Get kissed goodnight. Have bacon and eggs for breakfast, go to a real school. Be happy.
But now Chuck was gone. And his limp body, to which Thomas still clung, seemed a cold talisman - that not only would those dreams of a hopeful future never come to pass, but that life had never been that way in the first place. That even in escape, dreary days lay ahead. A life of sorrow.
His returning memories were sketchy at best. But not much good floated in the muck.
Thomas reeled in the pain, locked it somewhere deep inside him. He did it for Teresa. For Newt and Minho. Whatever darkness awaited them, they'd be together, and that was all that mattered right then. — James Dashner