Sylvia Plath Quotes

Insomniacs know better than anyone how it would be to haunt a house.

Sleepless nights I'm not a big fan of to be honest.

Later in the evening when you lie awake in bed with the echoes from the amplifiers ringing in your head.

I just can't sleep tonight knowing that things ain't right.

I have insomnia, and it's hard for me to sit still for a long time. My mind is always "tick, tick, tick."

My own eyes try to sleep, but they don't. They stay wide awake as time snarls forward and silence drops down, like measured thought.

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

We wake in the night, to stereophonic silence.

I know I have to write about the things that keep me awake at night.

I can't sleep. Too many thoughts running through my useless head.

Now, on nights that I can't sleep, I play video games alone until the morning.

I don't sleep well. I rehash everything in bed. The mind's still working.

Sleeplessness is a desert without vegetation or inhabitants.

I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. Standing on the edge of something much too deep.

Well enough for old folks to rise early, because they have done so many mean things all their lives they can't sleep anyhow.

Some nights I sleep like a baby. Other nights it's, Oh God, I just came up with a bomb shot.

Meanwhile the 3 a.m. drunks of the world would lay in their beds, trying in vain to sleep, and deserving that rest, if they could find it.

It was always late at night, when everything and everyone else was quiet, that those voices would rise like ghosts, soft and haunting, filling your mind until sleep finally came.

I don’t smoke, although it looks fantastic in films. But I light matches on those thinking blank nights when I crawl my route out onto the roof of the garage and the sky while my parents sleep innocent and the lonely cars move sparse on the faraway streets, when the pillow won’t stay cool and the blankets bother my body no matter how I move or lie still. I just sit with my legs dangling and light matches and watch them flicker away.

I am losing enough sleep to supply a worn-out army.

I was never going to get any sleep. I was going to have Alice in Wonderland conversation after Alice in Wonderland conversation until I died of exhaustion. Here, in the restful, idyllic Victorian era.

I'm an insomniac lately. It's one of the many prizes you find in the Cracker Jack box of a crumbling [relationship].

I go to bed, and I wait for sleep as a man might wait for the executioner. I wait for its coming with dread, and my heart beats and my legs tremble, while my whole body shivers beneath the warmth of the bedclothes, until the moment when I suddenly fall asleep, as a man throws himself into a pool of stagnant water in order to drown. I do not feel this perfidious sleep coming over me as I used to, but a sleep which is close to me and watching me, which is going to seize me by the head, to close my eyes and annihilate me.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. But it was not until much later that I was able to get any real sleep. In a place far away from anyone or anywhere, I drifted off for a moment.

I do not sleep; I wish to meet my death awake.