Morning Dread Quotes

You wonder, 'How could it possibly be me?' Well, of course it could happen to you. You have it. Then, of course, you wake up every morning, and you hope it's a bad dream. Then you wake up. I have cancer.

It's 4:30 in the morning, it's always 4:30 in the morning.

When I wake up, I wake to something worse. It’s the astonishment of being myself

I hate mornings.

I don't know about other people, but when I wake up in the morning and put my shoes on, I think, Jesus Christ, now what?

Everyone thinks I like to sleep. It's not that I like to sleep, it's that I don't like to get up! There is a difference.

I have always disliked the morning, it is too responsible a time, with the daylight demanding that it be 'faced' and (usually when I wake for I wake late) with the sun already up and in charge of the world, with little hope of anyone usurping or challenging its authority. A shot of light in the face of a poor waking human being and another slave limps wounded into the light-occupied territory.

She walked quickly around her one-room apartment. After more than four years in this one home she knew all its possibilities, how it could put on a sham appearance of warmth and welcome when she needed a place to hide in, how it stood over her in the night when she woke suddenly, how it could relax itself into a disagreeable unmade, badly-put-together state, mornings like this, anxious to drive her out and go back to sleep.

Those who hate to go to bed fear death; those who hate to get up fear life.

The universe contains any amount of horrible ways to be woken up, such as the noise of the mob breaking down the front door, the scream of fire engines, or the realization that today is the Monday which on Friday night was a comfortably long way off. A dog's wet nose is not strictly speaking the worst of the bunch, but it has it's own peculiar dreadfulness which connoisseurs of the ghastly and dog owners everywhere have come to know and dread. It's like having a small piece of defrosting liver pressed lovingly against you.

I wake up most days with a vague feeling of doom - 'Dear God. Here I am again.' Then, when I read about politicians in the newspaper, the vengefulness starts. By mid-morning, the anxiety is kicking in.

Unlike landed white men, she didn't need to climb mountains to experience mystic panic. All she needed was to set her alarm dock for the next morning, wake when it rang, and go to class.