Some feel the love; some understand it, and some sense it; but no matter what you do, love is always there if you search for it, and deep inside everyone’s heart you will find your home to sleep there forever and feel the heaven.
Occupation: Writer Occupational Hazard: Carpel tunnel Solution: Wrist guards to bed or my hands do all the sleeping Perspective: I've decided my wrist guards have turned me into a Ninja Superhero that hides in the shadows
a dense wall of greenery bordered it, ...an impenetrable barrier of oaks, evergreen shrubs, blackberry that somehow resisted the frost, and thorns. In the defense department, the witches would make Sleeping Beauty’s evil witch weep with jealousy.
After all the shit that went down with Calease, I hate sleeping the way some people hate airplanes. Or small, dark spaces. Or spiders. Or being on an airplane in a small, dark space filled with spiders.
from CHAOS? Trust the imagination. Peace is knowing without need for detailed explanation. Joy is openness to possibility. Sing your humming heart free from the heat of all creation. Swim into cool whirling coloured pools. Sleep on rock of consciousn...
I saw an old guy sleeping, and I thought he was dead. But I kept checking his pockets for money, because it seemed like the right thing to do.
Nader refused to bring her the feathery dream catcher – her asabikeshiinh – with its willow-web and invisible ‘lady spider’ apparently weaving her spells – an object Bea insisted always hung above her in bed.
You talk; I'll sleep. feel free to make up my side of the conversation in case you get bored. I recommend throwing in the occasional 'fuck you' on my behalf, just to keep things true to life.
And now—our love is so true, I won’t take a step without you. Thank God, you came. If you love me, please don’t ever let me go.
Guilt is intense. Suffocating. A brick, tied quietly around your ankles while you sleep. You never fall slowly into guilt-you wake up with little time to take your last breath before being pulled under.
It is said the sesta is one of the only gifts the Europeans brought to South America, but I imagine the Brazilians could have figured out how to sleep in the afternoon without having to endure centuries of murder and enslavement.
Kiriwar: "It doesn't matter. Bitro's gonna sew your eyebrows to your eyelids when we get back." Gunzi: "Whaaat?! Then I won't be able to sleep!!" Kiriwar: "That's the idea, dumbass.
Lori sat way back in her chair and gave him the once-over. "What in the world's gotten into Ben Lawson? jokes? Flirting? Maybe I should sleep with Molly. I think she's got a magic hooha.
...sleep is a skilled magician, it changes the proportions of things, the distances between them, it separates people and they're lying next to each other, brings them together and they can barely see one another...
And, of course, there are the perfect day, perfect moment, perfect life dreams that come sometimes and make a person hit the snooze button for hours, trying to go back to sleep and make the perfect moments last.
You are only as invincible as your smallest weakness, and those are tiny indeed - the length of a sleeping baby's eyelash, the span of a child's hand. Life turns on a dime, and - it turns out - so does one's conscience.
He was afraid of touching his own wrist. He never attempted to sleep on his left side, even in those dismal hours of the night when the insomniac longs for a third side after trying the two he has.
I am convinced that the human heart hungers for constancy. In forfeiting the sanctity of sex by casual, nondiscriminatory "making out" and "sleeping around," we forfeit something we cannot well do without. There is dullness, monotony, sheer boredom i...
Sometimes one awakes with the knowledge that unrecallable dreams have been lining your sleep, and though you feel rested, it is the rest of one who has lived for hours in an alternate world, another realm.
Rape is a crime against sleep and memory; it's after image imprints itself like an irreversible negative from the camera obscure of dreams. Though their bodies would heal, their souls had sustained a damage beyond compensation
So now what?” I ask. She is quiet for a long time, long enough that I assume she’s gone to sleep. “I think this is just part of it,” she says. “Civilisations fall. People keep going.
