In the waking dreams our societies permit, in our myths, our arts, our songs, we celebrate the nonbelongers, the different ones, the outlaws, the freaks.
When I'm awake all night, sometimes I see the people and the city waking up around me. I feel a little bit moody at them for stepping into my night-time. What I want is that feeling when you're in the rain, or a storm. It's a shiver at the edge of your mind, an atmosphere of hearing a sad, distant sound, but it seems closer - like it's just for you. Like hearing rain or a whale-song, a cry in the dark, the far cry.
God, I want to give You every minute of this year. I shall try to keep You in mind every moment of my waking hours....I shall try to let You be the speaker and direct every word. I shall try to let You direct my acts. I shall try to learn Your language.
How often do we use other people as screens upon which to project our obsessions? Our discontents, dreams, desires, and fears? Well, I always thought, often enough that its a wonder the whole waking world isn't simply viewed as an endless improvised film. One with as many screenwriters, producers, and directors as there are actors
I enjoy having breakfast in bed. I like waking up to the smell of bacon, sue me. And since I don't have a butler, I have to do it myself. So, most nights before I go to bed, I will lay six strips of bacon out on my George Foreman grill. Then I go to sleep. When I wake up, I plug in the grill. I go back to sleep again. Then I wake up to the smell of crackling bacon. It is delicious, it's good for me, it's the perfect way to start the day.
I don't know about you, but I call impromptu vomiting harm.
We are not just humans learning to become buddhas, but also buddhas waking up in human form, learning to become fully human.
There hadn’t been one specific moment. It was like gradualy waking up. You go from being asleep to the space between dreaming and awake and then into consciousness. It’s a slow process, but when you’re awake, there’s no mistaking it. There was no mistaking that it had been love.
Choices after waking up: To be true or to lie? To take action or be brainwashed? To be free or be jailed?
A handsome young guy is stretching his arms and waking up. He is just about to reach for his coffee and is now being wished good morning by me. Have a lovely day ahead.
I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day.
Morning is wonderful. Its only drawback is that it comes at such an inconvenient time of day.
To simply wake up every morning a better person than when I went to bed.
I never knew a man come to greatness or eminence who lay abed late in the morning.
Morning is an important time of day, because how you spend your morning can often tell you what kind of day you are going to have.
Which is the most universal human characteristic: fear, or laziness?
I think it's time for me to get out, because at the moment I'm only thinking about fishing 21 hours a day, and they're the waking moments. And even when I close my eyes I'm thinking about it.
The ocean sleeps. The ocean wakes. And the waking of the ocean is the waking of the soul. At midnight wakefulness springs from within the ocean.
Let no youth have any anxiety about the upshot of his education, whatever the line of it may be. If he keep faithfully busy each hour of the working-day, he may safely leave the result to itself. He can with perfect certainty count on waking up some fine morning to find himself one of the competent ones of his generation.
You can't breathe dead hippo waking, sleeping, and eating, and at the same time keep your precarious grip on existence.
What starts love is your ability to stupefy and blind yourself to the point of being able to fall in love. What stops it is waking up.
The idea is to remain in a state of constant departure, while always arriving.
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