Laurell K. Hamilton Quotes

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.

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.

Sleep is no longer a healing bath, a recuperation of vital forces, but an oblivion, a nightly brush with annihilation.

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

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

WAKING AT NIGHT The blue river is grey at morning and evening. There is twilight at dawn and dusk. I lie in the dark wondering if this quiet in me now is a beginning or an end.

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.

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

I have trouble sleeping, at the end of the night. There's a lot of stimulus and my brain is processing a lot of different arcs and personalities. I'm always processing things, so I don't sleep.

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've been waiting for sleep to offer up the day with both hands.

Sleep deprivation made his life an imaginary thing, his days a ribbon floating aimlessly in water." - Whelk

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

You know what it’s like when you’re trying to fall asleep and it only makes you more wide awake?

I’m not going to bed after all. Somebody around here hath murdered sleep. Good for him.

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

His tiredness hurt so much it kept him awake.

O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down And steep my senses in forgetfulness? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?

The thing that keeps me most awake is the desire and curiosity to learn more.

Although she was giddy with exhaustion, sleep was a lover who refused to be touched.

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.

Sleep is harder to reach and thinner, and sleeping is no longer the Drop into the black pit all oblivion until the alarm clock, no, sleep is thin and fitful and full of memories and reminders and the dark is never dark enough.