You'd tell the world what your best friend wore to sleep if you thought it made a good enough story.
Before he could lose courage he flung himself back and slammed his sleep-inducer to full theta.
I dislike the idea of a murderer employing children,' said Holmes darkly. ‘It is, I agree, bad for their morals, and interferes with their sleep.’ ‘And their schooling,’ added Holmes sententiously.
But unshed tears can turn rancid. So can memory. So can biting your tongue. My bad nights were beginning. I couldn't sleep.
A blanket could be wrapped around people who’ve recently been electrocuted, because I’ll bet it’s really warm under those covers. I’ve always wanted to roast marshmallows in my sleep.
A blanket could be used to eradicate the radical element that’s so pervasive and perverse in our society today. I’m talking about people sleeping in the nude, with nothing to cover their shame.
And I? I drink, I burn, I gather dreams. And sometimes I tell a story. Because Promethea asks me for a bowl of words before she goes to sleep.
I don't think sleeping with you is going to solve anything," she said, stopping at the guest bedroom door. "I don't really care what you think.
He didn't know the right people. That's all a police record means in this rotten crime-ridden country.
Neither of the two people in the room paid any attention to the way I came in, although only one of them was dead.
I want him to be happy. And I want you to be happy, too. Even if you can only find that happiness without me.
It was a smooth silvery voice that matched her hair. It had a tiny tinkle in it, like bells in a doll's house. I thought that was silly as soon as I thought of it.
I don’t mind if you don’t like my manners. They’re pretty bad. I grieve over them during the long winter evenings.
It's so difficult, isn't it? To see what's going on when you're in the absolute middle of something? It's only with hindsight we can see things for what they are.
With him everything is a test, affection is measured, that given weighed against that which has been received, and the balance, more often than not, disappointing him.
I force myself to think of anything but the one thing that I'm actually always thinking about. And that is so exhausting that I sleep more than I ever have.
Many of the people I work with that are half my age complain that they feel tired all the time. I tell them: 'Look at what you're eating, how much you are exercising, and how much sleep you are getting.'
When I was a freshman in high school, I read a book about the making of Disney's 'Sleeping Beauty' called 'The Art of Animation.' It was this weird revelation for me, because I hadn't considered that people actually get paid to make cartoons.
Of all the seasons, winter is the most conducive to the great art of dormancy. This art requires an appreciation of semi-consciousness: the beautiful and necessary prelude to sleep - a special pleasure in itself that is all too often neglected, under...
I’m a powerful being. I caused the night to turn into day. And I didn’t even try! I simply waited. I’ll bet I could even do it in my sleep.
Life is grace. Sleep is forgiveness. The night absolves. Darkness wipes the slate clean, not spotless to be sure, but clean enough for another day's chalking.
