George R. R. Martin Quotes

Sleep is a little death, dreams the whisperings of the Other, who would drag us all into his eternal night.

Oh, dreams! In one night, lying with one's eyes shut, one may sometimes live through more than ten years of happiness.

I wonder how well she sleeps at night, and what kind of dreams she has. I wish I could step into them like she steps into mine.

During the day, memories could be held at bay, but at night, dreams became the devil's own accomplices.

London is a city that sleeps too much. This is the mould of its quality. A magnetic contract: to reinvent itself on the other side of dream, each day. And such dreams, smouldering against the tidal spine of the river, telling and retelling the tales that must be told to manifest a city's bones. Whispering the night architecture back into stone.

Cities at night, I feel, contain men who cry in their sleep and then say Nothing. It's nothing. Just sad dreams. Or something like that...Swing low in your weep ship, with your tear scans and sob probes, and you would mark them. Women--and they can be wives, lovers, gaunt muses, fat nurses, obsessions, devourers, exes, nemeses--will wake and turn to these men and ask, with female need-to-know, "What is it?" And the men will say, "Nothing. No it isn't anything really. Just sad dreams.

To gaze into the depths of the sea is, in the imagination, like beholding the vast unknown, and from its most terrible point of view. The submarine gulf is analogous to the realm of night and dreams. There also is sleep, unconsciousness, or at least apparent unconsciousness, of creation. There in the awful silence and darkness, the rude first forms of life, phantomlike, demoniacal, pursue their horrible instincts.

Between the dreams of night and day there is not so great a difference.

I do keep up at night. I try not to let my mind go to extremes in the middle of the night because it would be better to turn all that stuff into dreams; it would be better if I was sleeping, because dreams become good metaphors for what's really going on inside of you.

Close the day with prayer so that you may have a peaceful night free from dreams and nightmares.

The day seems long, but night is odious; no sleep, but dreams; no dreams but visions strange.

What he could bear in the waking world he could not by night and he sat awake for fear the dream would return.

Sleep is your friend. Dreams are your unwelcome guests.

God, like all highest things, Hides light in shade, And in the night his visitings To sleep and dreams are clearliest made.

There are some dreams that get stuck between your teeth when you sleep, so that when you open your mouth to yawn awake they fly right out of you.

I go to bed early; my favorite dream comes on at nine.

Last night I fell asleep in a satellite dish. My dreams were broadcast all over the world.

Night has brought to those who sleep, only dreams they can not keep.

Peeta, how come I never know when you're having a nightmare?” I say. “I don't know. I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror,” he says. “You should wake me,” I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down. “It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you,” he says. “I'm okay once I realize you're here.

A dream has power to poison sleep.

The word chrysalis alone is an unmistakable indication that here two dreams are joined together, dreams that be-speak both the repose and flight of being, evening's crystallization and wings that open to the light.

And I guess you judge how well you're doing by how well you sleep at night... and what your dreams are like.

Sleep,” he says. “I'll fight the bad dreams off if they come to get you.” “With what?” “My bare hands, obviously.