I would not a bit mind sleeping in the cool grass in summer, and when winter came on sheltering myself by the warm close-thatched rick, or under the penthouse of a great barn, provided I had love in my heart.
What would the world be without him, and those like him?
She said, why don't we both just sleep on it tonight, And I believe, in the morning you'll begin to see the light. And then she kissed me and I realized she probably was right, There must be fifty ways to leave your lover, fifty ways to leave your lover.
American Girls and American Guys We'll always stand up and salute We'll always recognize When we see Old Glory Flying There's a lot of men dead So we can sleep in peace at night When we lay down our head.
Ocean waters..oceans deep..Serious poets never sleep.
I want a boat that drinks 6, eats 4, and sleeps 2.
The only thing worth stealing is a kiss from a sleeping child.
The strongest and most evil spirits have to date advanced mankind the most: they always rekindled the sleeping passions - all orderly arranged society lulls the passions to sleep; they always reawakened the sense of comparison, of contradiction, of delight in the new, the adventurous, the untried; they compelled men to set opinion against opinion, ideal plan against ideal plan.
Chance does not speak essentially through words nor can it be seen in their convolution. It is the eruption of language, its sudden appearance. It's not a night twinkle with stars, an illuminated sleep, nor a drowsy vigil. It is the very edge of consciousness.
Did any of you, parents, ever hear your child wake from sleep with some panic fear and shriek the mother's name through the darkness? Was not that a more powerful appeal than all words? And, depend upon it, that the soul which cries aloud on God, "the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," though it have "no language but a cry," will never call in vain.
I ought to pray before seeing any one. Often when I sleep long, or meet with others early, it is eleven or twelve o'clock before I begin secret prayer. I feel it is far better to begin with God-to see His face first, to get my soul near Him before it is near another.
There are worse things than having behaved foolishly in public. There are worse things than these miniature betrayals, committed or endured or suspected; there are worse things than not being able to sleep for thinking about them. It is 5 a.m. All the worse things come stalking in and stand icily about the bed looking worse and worse and worse.
There are twelve hours in the day, and above fifty in the night.
Sometimes I sit up late with my thoughts, reluctant to fall asleep and leave my thoughts alone by themselves.
I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. Standing on the edge of something much too deep.
I felt very bad and could not sleep until 1am. Maybe he could coach me defence.
O bed! O bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head.
Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am in a thousand winds that blow, I am the softly falling snow. I am the gentle showers of rain, I am the fields of ripening grain. I am in the morning hush, I am in the graceful rush Of beautiful birds in circling flight, I am the star shine of the night. I am in the flowers that bloom, I am in a quiet room. I am in the birds that sing, I am in each lovely thing. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there. I do not die.
Sleep after toyle, port after stormie seas, Ease after warre, death after life, does greatly please.
We want to do a lot of stuff; we're not in great shape, we didn't get a good night's sleep, we're a little depressed. Coffee solves all these problems in one delightful little cup.
Sleep is just a symptom of caffeine lack
For five days, I had no sleep. None. I did not sleep. And the last day, the reason I lasted, I drank 20 Red Bulls, about 20 cups of coffee. I could not function.
Success is meaningless if you can't sleep at night because of harsh things said, petty secrets sharpened against hard and stony regret, just waiting to be plunged into the soft underbelly of a 'friendship.'
God, if ever I have come close to wanting to commit suicide, it is now, with the groggy sleepless blood dragging through my veins, and the air thick and gray with rain ... I fell into bed again this morning, begging for sleep, withdrawing into the dark, warm, fetid escape from action, from responsibility. No good.
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree Toward heaven still, And there's a barrel that I didn't fill Beside it, and there may be two or three Apples I didn't pick upon some bough. But I am done with apple-picking now. Essence of winter sleep is on the night, The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
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