Lucy Maud Montgomery Quotes

Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace;Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul,While the stars burn, the moons increase,And the great ages onward roll. Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet. Nothing comes to thee new or strange. Sleep full of rest from head to feet;Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.

To all, to each, a fair good-night, and pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.

Sleep well and wake, Rand al'Thor.

Let's contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before Love, - Only sleep.

Sleep in peace, and wake in joy.

The sleep of a laboring man is sweet.

Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber.

For she belike hath drunken deep Of all the blessedness of sleep.

Go to sleep in peace. God is awake.

Sometime I’ll lay down my wrath, As I lay my body down Between the ache of breath and breath, Golden slumber in the bone.

Let youth cherish sleep, the happiest of earthly boons, while yet it is at its command; for there cometh the day to all when "neither the voice of the lute nor the birds" shall bring back the sweet slumbers that fell on their young eyes as unbidden as the dews.

Sweet sleep fell upon his eyelids, unwakeful, most pleasant, the nearest like death.

Home, bed, sleep, mother--who knew more beautiful words than these?

Sweet as the tender fragrance that survives, When martyred flowers breathe out their little lives, Sweet as a song that once consoled our pain, But never will be sung to us again, Is they remembrance. Now the hour of rest Hath come to thee. Sleep, darling: it is best.

Man should forget his anger before he lies down to sleep.

Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes.

Dream happy dreams. You are the only one who has ever touched my heart. It will always be yours. Sleep,my only love.

Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.

Blessings on him, who invented sleep.

I appreciate my my sleep In sleep my conversation is witty My home is dusted My office work is up to date The dog is even well behaved And food is on the table on time But then when I'm asleep I don't have you to clutter and confuse My hungry heart

Sleep, Silence's child, sweet father of soft rest, Prince whose approach peace to all mortals brings Indifferent host to shepherds and kings Sole comforter to minds with grief oppressed.

Sleep tight, ya morons!