All men whilst they are awake are in one common world: but each of them, when he is asleep, is in a world of his own.
Come now, what masques, what dances shall we have To wear away this long age of three hours Between our after-supper and bedtime?
Sleep is the interest we have to pay on the capital which is called in at death; and the higher the rate of interest and the more regularly it is paid, the further the date of redemption is postponed.
Sleep: a poor substitute for caffeine!
Many things, such as loving, going to sleep, or behaving unaffectedly - are done worst when we try hardest to do them.
So much for modern science and its wonderful discoveries that just about everything can kill you. Life is only a bedtime story before a long, long sleep.
Unfortunately, I suffer from insomnia, so my bedtime is as soon as I start to feel the least bit sleepy.
When I was a junior camp counselor and it was my job to tell the campers a bedtime story or devotional, I would tell them a rapture story.
It's a cruel season that makes you get ready for bed while it's light out.
The worst thing in the world is to be bland.
It is a common experience that a problem difficult at night is resolved in the morning after the committee of sleep has worked on it.
There were five writers on Blazing Saddles.
Bed is a bundle of paradoxes: we go to it with reluctance, yet we quit it with regret.
That is sad until one recalls how many bad books the world may yet be spared because of the busyness of writers.
The only people who have the long view are some scientists and some science fiction writers.
Some writers take to drink, others take to audiences.
Writers have to have a knack for listening. I need to be able to hear what is being said to me by the voices I create.
I think writers are prone to hyperbole sometimes.
All writers are vampires.
Three meals plus bedtime make four sure blessings a day.
There is more refreshment and stimulation in a nap, even of the briefest, than in all the alcohol ever distilled.
These were our bedtime stories. Tales that haunted our parents and made them laugh at the same time. We never understood them until we were fully grown and they became our sole inheritance.
You don't let a guy put his hand on your chest, and put his foot on the ball and look into your eyes and tell you a bedtime story. No. sorry. He controlled the ball on his chest, step on it, look, see if someone was in the stands, take a coffee, turn, call his family, no one was answering, left a message, and then thought "Oh, I might cross the ball." He crossed it and they scored.
When I was your age — about, ooh, a thousand years ago — I loved a good bedtime story. The Three Little Sontarans. The Emperor Dalek's New Clothes. Snow White and the Seven Keys to Doomsday, eh? All the classics.
Those of us who can remember our childhoods will recall how ardently we relished the moment of the bedtime story, when our mother or father would sit down beside us in the semi-dark and read from a book of fairy tales.
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