| Author |
Quotes |
| Thomas Bailey Aldrich | What probing deep Has ever solved the mystery of sleep? |
| Thomas Bailey Aldrich | But I, in the chilling twilight stand and wait At the portcullis, at thy castle gate, Longing to see the charmed door of dreams Turn on its noiseless hinges, delicate sleep! |
| Thomas Dekker | the golden chain that ties health and our bodies together. |
| Victor Hugo | Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake. |
| Walt Whitman | Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons. It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | How he sleepeth! having drunken Weary childhood's mandragore, From his pretty eyes have sunken Pleasures to make room for more-- Sleeping near the withered nosegay which he pulled the day before. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | Of all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is. For gift or grace, surpassing this-- "He giveth His beloved sleep." |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | Sleep on, Baby, on the floor, Tired of all the playing, Sleep with smile the sweeter for That you dropped away in! On your curls' full roundness stand Golden lights serenely-- One cheek, pushed out by the hand, Folds the dimple inly. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | Don't stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed. |
| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | Sleep... Oh! how I loathe those little slices of death.... |
| Joseph Addison | What means this heaviness that hangs upon me? This lethargy that creeps through all my senses? Nature, oppress'd and harrass'd out with care, Sinks down to rest. |
| Mark Twain | I have never taken any exercise except sleeping and resting. |
| Samuel Taylor Coleridge | O 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. |
| Samuel Taylor Coleridge | Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing, And may this storm be but a mountain-birth, May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling, Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth! |
| Previous - 1 - Page 2 Next |