Insomnia Quotations | Page 2

Yeah. And Savitar predates him. He has presided over this council since the very beginning, and notice, Savitar looks about thirty. We don’t know what he is, but he ain’t one of us and he ain’t human. And trust me, you don’t want to mess with him. (Paris) Thank you for that highly unamusing summation. Next time I have insomnia, I know who to call. In the meantime, little lioness who would probably like to live another year, don’t interrupt me again. I don’t like it and I tend to kill the things I don’t like. (Savitar)

I'm kind of an insomniac and watch TV late at night.

Loneliness, insomnia, and change: the fear of these is even worse than the reality.

Love without conversation is impossible.

Come Sleep! Oh Sleep, the certain knot of peace, the baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe, the poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, the indifferent judge between the high and low.

December is the most difficult month. Medications for insomnia or depression go up during the month of December. A lot of people who experience loss feel that loss magnified in December. Everybody seems happy and you feel all alone. You're not all alone.

There is between sleep and us something like a pact, a treaty with no secret clauses, and according to this convention it is agreed that, far from being a dangerous, bewitching force, sleep will become domesticated and serve as an instrument of our power to act. We surrender to sleep, but in the way that the master entrusts himself to the slave who serves him.

I used to want to be a lawyer, but I didn't want to have half my brain sucked out.

That ideal reader suffering from an ideal insomnia.

Not being able to sleep is terrible. You have the misery of having partied all night... Without the satisfaction.

My life has been regulated by insomnia.

My work has to do with a defense against fervor. People are always in a rush. To do what? To do nothing! There is a kind of fervor that is completely meaningless. This drawing is a call for meditation.... I am an insomniac, so for me the state of being asleep is paradise. It is a paradise I can never reach. But I still try to conquer the insomnia, and to a large extent I have done it; it is conquerable. My drawings are a kind of rocking or stroking and an attempt at finding peace. Peaceful rhythm. Like rocking a baby to sleep.

I'm making tapes for insomniacs to use in the future. I'm going to sell them as a kit to cure insomnia.

I only sleep with people I love, which is why I have insomnia.

What is that one crucifixion compared to the daily kind any insomniac endures?

Just as ecstasy purifies you of the particular and the contingent, leaving nothing except light and darkness, so insomnia kills off the multiplicity and diversity of the world, leaving you prey to your private obsessions.

What strangely enchanted tunes gush forth during those sleepless nights!

The importance of insomnia is so colossal that I am tempted to define man as the animal who cannot sleep. Why call him a rational animal when other animals are equally reasonable? But there is not another animal in the entire creation that wants to sleep yet cannot.

I think the most common cause of insomnia is simple; its loneliness.

Even sleepers are workers and collaborators on what goes on in the universe.

I use a wide selection of colours. It is impossible to produce work like mine using only the primary colours as they only mix a certain range of colour.

He gets into the habit of thinking so passionately at night that he begins to be persecuted by insomnia.

Certain kinds of knowledge rob people of their sleep.

But Mr. Hale resolved that he would not be disturbed by any such nonsensical idea; so he lay awake, determining not to think about it.

Insomnia is a variant of Tourette's--the waking brain races, sampling the world after the world has turned away, touching it everywhere, refusing to settle, to join the collective nod. The insomniac brain is a sort of conspiracy theorist as well, believing too much in its own paranoiac importance--as though if it were to blink, then doze, the world might be overrun by some encroaching calamity, which its obsessive musings are somehow fending off.

Insomnia is my greatest inspiration.

When I want to go to sleep, I must first get a whole menagerie of voices to shut up. You wouldn't believe what a racket they make in my room.

Insomnia is an increasing problem. I've become swayed that sleep disorders are conceivably the most unnoticed, ignored, underrated reason of health as well as performance problems in the place of work.

I used to think anxiety and insomnia drove me to success, but it was the stillness that let me be good at anything. When you extend the seconds of stillness, that's when you're able to think and learn.

I've crossed some kind of invisible line. I feel as if I've come to a place I never thought I'd have to come to. And I don't know how I got here. It's a strange place. It's a place where a little harmless dreaming and then some sleepy, early-morning talk has led me into considerations of death and annihilation.

O bed! O bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head.

We term sleep a death by which we may be literally said to die daily; in fine, so like death, I dare not trust it without my prayers.

I knew this feeling, the 2 a.m. loneliness that I'd practically invented.

Oh Sleep! it is a gentle thing, beloved from pole to pole, to Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, that slid into my soul.

Sleep: a poor substitute for caffeine!

I don't know if you've ever had insomnia, but it's a really terrible feeling when it's days and weeks on end. It was kind of awful.

A disruption of the circadian cycle—the metabolic and glandular rhythms that are central to our workaday life—seems to be involved in many, if not most, cases of depression; this is why brutal insomnia so often occurs and is most likely why each day’s pattern of distress exhibits fairly predictable alternating periods of intensity and relief.

The amount of sleep required by the average person is five minutes more.

All my life I have been a poor go-to-sleeper. No matter how great my weariness, the wrench of parting with consciousness is unspeakably repulsive to me.

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.

You lack the season of all natures, sleep.

Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.

O polished perturbation! golden care! That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide To many a watchful night.

Bed is a bundle of paradoxes: we go to it with reluctance, yet we quit it with regret.

Fatigue is the best pillow.

Many things, such as loving, going to sleep, or behaving unaffectedly - are done worst when we try hardest to do them.

Insomnia never comes to a man who has to get up exactly at six o'clock. Insomnia troubles only those who can sleep any time.

For often, when one is asleep, there is something in consciousness which declares that what then presents itself is but a dream.

O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?

O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse.

Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep, - the innocent sleep; Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast.

If we rail and kick against it and grow bitter, we won't change the inevitable; but we will change ourselves. I know. I have tried it. I once refused to accept an inevitable situation with which I was confronted. I played the fool and railed against it, and rebelled. I turned my nights into hells of insomnia. I brought upon myself everything I didn't want. Finally, after a year of self-torture, I had to accept what I knew from the outset I couldn't possible alter.

TZETZE (or TSETSE) FLY, n. An African insect ("Glossina morsitans") whose bite is commonly regarded as nature's most efficacious remedy for insomnia, though some patients prefer that of the American novelist ("Mendax interminabilis").

Sometimes, from beyond the skycrapers, the cry of a tugboat finds you in your insomnia, and you remember that this desert of iron and cement is an island.

It appears that every man's insomnia is as different from his neighbours as are their daytime hopes and aspirations.

The worst thing in the world is to try to sleep and not to.

He would lie in the bed and finally, with daylight, he would go to sleep. After all, he said to himself, it is probably only insomnia. Many must have it.

Sleep, rest of things, O pleasing Deity, Peace of the soul, which cares dost crucify, Weary bodies refresh and mollify.

Now blessings light on him that first invented this same sleep. It covers a man all over, thoughts and all, like a cloak.

A little insomnia is not without its value in making us appreciate sleep, in throwing a ray of light upon that darkness.

What hath night to do with sleep?

Time, motion and wine cause sleep.

I divide my time as follows: half the time I sleep, the other half I dream. I never dream when I sleep, for that would be a pity, for sleeping is the highest accomplishment of genius.

Sleep comes more easily than it returns.