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Insomnia Quotes

Browse 423 quotes about Insomnia.

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Insomnia Quotes

“Hers was not an easy sleep. Through her dreams there came and went the young girls of her mother’s stories: girls who had left their little houses against the rules and custom. Some of them were bitten by snakes and died at once; some of them lived long enough to bring shame and sorrow to their families, and then died; and there was the one who cut herself and sucked her own blood and liked the taste so much, she ate more and more of herself, becoming nothing but a head—a Cannibal Head—which devoured her parents and her brothers and sisters and then rolled horribly over the earth with an insatiable need always to eat human flesh, more and more and more.”

FearSorrowGirlsInsomniaCannibal
Book:The Inland Whale: Nine Stories Retold from California Indian Legends
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“Rings and magazines; keychains and umbrellas; hats and glasses; rattles and radios. They looked like different things, but Ralph thought they were really all the same thing: the faint, sorrowing voices of people who had found themselves written out of the script in the middle of the second act while they were still learning their lines for the third, people who had been unceremoniously hauled off before their work was done or their obligations fulfilled, people whose only crime had been to be born in the Random... and to have caught the eye of the madman with the rusty scalpel.”

LifeDeathDyingSupernaturalInsomniaStephen King
Book:Insomnia
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“الرابعة فجرًا أحتسي فنجان من القهوة ممزوجًا بالأرق غير مبالية بـ محاولات أمي المتكرره لـ لفت نظري لهذا السواد المحتل أسفل عيناي تاركة ما تبقى من روحي لعقلي مُجبرةً يقولون دائمًا إن فراغ القلب يملأه الحب، ولكن ماذا عن فراغ الروح..؟ روحًا هشه شوهت الحياة نقائها ولم يتبقى منها سوى رماد متعبة.. متعبة من الركض في متاهة عقلي تلك وأنا أعلم إنها بلا مخرج متبعة من ذاتي.. من ذلك الأنفصام الذي أعيشه، من الشخصان اللذان أنا عليهما متعبة من تناقضهما وذلك الصراع الذي ينشب بينهم كل يوم فـ أحدهما يمقتني والآخر يشفق عليّ متعبة من سقوطي في تلك الفجوة الزمنية؛ الماضي يطاردني ولا أشعر بالحاضر وأخاف المستقبل..”

PastSadnessFutureDepressionFrightenedInsomnia
Author:مي عز الدين
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“First: breakdown, impossible to sleep, impossible to stay awake, impossible to endure life, or, more exactly, the course of life. The clocks are not in unison; the inner one runs crazily on at a devilish or demoniac or in any case inhuman pace, the outer one limps along at its usual speed. What else can happen but that the two worlds split apart, and they do split apart, or at least clash in a fearful manner. There are doubtless several reasons for the wild tempo of the inner process; the most obvious one is introspection, which will suffer no idea to sink tranquilly to rest but must pursue each one into consciousness, only itself to become an idea, in turn to be pursued by renewed introspection. Secondly: this pursuit, originating in the midst of men, carries one in a direction away from them. The solitude that for the most part has been forced on me, in part voluntarily sought by me –but what was this if not compulsion too? –is now losing all its ambiguity and approaches its dénouement. Where is it leading? The strongest likelihood is, that it may lead to madness; there is nothing more to say, the pursuit goes right through me and rends me asunder. Or I can –can I? –manage to keep my feet somewhat and be carried along in the wild pursuit. Where, then, shall I be brought? ‘Pursuit,’ indeed, is only a metaphor. I can also say, ‘assault on the last earthly frontier’, an assault, moreover, launched from below, from mankind, and since this too is a metaphor, I can replace it by the metaphor of an assault from above, aimed at me from above.”

SolitudeMadnessPursuitContradictionIntrospectionInsomniaBreakdownDiaryInner Conflict
Book:Diaries, 1910-1923
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“The traditional techniques used in getting sleep aren’t much effective any longer and our sleep techniques need to evolve as rapidly as our life style has, in order to cope with it.”

MeditationTroubleAnxietyMindfulnessStressTensionInsomniaArt Of LivingSleeplessnessWork StressIssueSleeping WellSleeping HabitsBody ScanWork TensionAmyloid BetaArt Of SleepingBody Scan RelaxationEnemies Of SleepFocus On BreathFocus On BreathingSleeping At WillSleeping BrainSleeping TechniquesWaking BrainCsf
Author:Pawan Mishra
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“The Sleep Problem today is not as much about being able to sleep for 7 hours; it is more about being able to sleep when you are ready to.”

MeditationTroubleAnxietyMindfulnessStressTensionInsomniaArt Of LivingSleeplessnessWork StressIssueSleeping WellSleeping HabitsBody ScanWork TensionAmyloid BetaArt Of SleepingBody Scan RelaxationEnemies Of SleepFocus On BreathFocus On BreathingSleeping At WillSleeping BrainSleeping TechniquesWaking BrainCsf
Author:Pawan Mishra
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“Let’s imagine a running washing machine. Let’s imagine the dirty clothes in the machine and how the liquid detergent is getting the dirt out of clothes and draining it to the waste outlet. Now imagine brain surrounded by a large pool of cleaning fluid called CSF (cerebrospinal fluid). Imagine CSF pulling the wastes from inside the brain and draining it into the blood, which routes it to the waste outlets. CSF clears waste many times faster in sleeping brain than in the waking brain.”

MeditationTroubleAnxietyMindfulnessStressTensionInsomniaArt Of LivingSleeplessnessWork StressIssueSleeping WellSleeping HabitsBody ScanWork TensionAmyloid BetaArt Of SleepingBody Scan RelaxationEnemies Of SleepFocus On BreathFocus On BreathingSleeping At WillSleeping BrainSleeping TechniquesWaking BrainCsf
Author:Pawan Mishra
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“Tonight is going to be a big night, like any other night, because certain 10 million Americans will not be able to sleep well tonight.”

MeditationTroubleAnxietyMindfulnessStressTensionInsomniaArt Of LivingSleeplessnessWork StressIssueSleeping WellSleeping HabitsBody ScanWork TensionAmyloid BetaArt Of SleepingBody Scan RelaxationEnemies Of SleepFocus On BreathFocus On BreathingSleeping At WillSleeping BrainSleeping TechniquesWaking Brain
Author:Pawan Mishra
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“Then Night came down like the feathery soot of a smoky lamp, and smutted[9] first the bedquilt, then the hearth-rug, then the window-seat, and then at last the great, stormy, faraway outside world. But sleep did not come. Oh, no! Nothing new came at all except that particularly wretched, itching type of insomnia which seems to rip away from one's body the whole kind, protecting skin and expose all the raw, ticklish fretwork of nerves to the mercy of a gritty blanket or a wrinkled sheet. Pain came too, in its most brutally high night-tide; and sweat, like the smother of furs in summer; and thirst like the scrape of hot sand-paper; and chill like the clammy horror of raw fish.”

PainNightInsomnia
Book:Molly Make-Believe
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“The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter. Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did in the miraculous months of April and May, 1819). Burns chose autumn. Longfellow liked the month of September. Shelley flourished in the hot months. Some poets, like Wordsworth, have gone outdoors to work. Others, like Auden, keep to the curtained room. Schiller needed the smell of rotten apples about him to make a poem. Tennyson and Walter de la Mare had to smoke. Auden drinks lots of tea, Spender coffee; Hart Crane drank alcohol. Pope, Byron, and William Morris were creative late at night. And so it goes.”

WritingMayPoetryNightFallSpringSeasonsWinterAlcoholCoffeeTeaApplesWritersAutumnPoetsSeptemberPopeInsomniaAprilMiltonSeasonByronAppleNocturnalMorrisShelleyWordsworthAudenTennysonBurnsKeatsSchillerLongfellowHart CraneDe La MareSpender
Book:When Found, Make a Verse of
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“Yimello,' said Bernard finally, breaking the silence. 'Gesundheit?' I asked. 'It's a name for one of the colors that's invisible to us. Yimello," said Bernard. "There could also be glowl and novaly and replitz." 'Yes.' I nodded, stunned the kid could actually string together so many words at once. 'And, uh, don't forget the beautiful grynn, the luminous dulloff, or the subtle winooze.' Bernard's face lit up. He stood and started pacing the room, speaking quickly. 'Or salty, and insomnia, and carefree, and talkative, and lonely, and burnt, and punctual.' 'Some of my favorite colors,' I agreed, nodding. 'We could paint this room whisper. Or zigzag. Or maybe a nice shade of ignored and invisible.”

FeelingsPaintingLonelyInvisibleShadeIgnoredInsomniaLuminousColorsCarefreePunctualTalkativeSaltyGesundheitBurntDulloffGlowlGrynnNovalyReplitzWinoozeYimelloZigzag
Book:Confessions of an Imaginary Friend
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“The dismal fact is that self-respect has nothing to do with the approval of others — who are, after all, deceived easily enough; has nothing to do with reputation, which, as Rhett Butler told Scarlett O’Hara, is something people with courage can do without. To do without self-respect, on the other hand, is to be an unwilling audience of one to an interminable documentary that deals with one’s failings, both real and imagined, with fresh footage spliced in for every screening. There’s the glass you broke in anger, there’s the hurt on X’s face; watch now, this next scene, the night Y came back from Houston, see how you muff this one. To live without self-respect is to lie awake some night, beyond the reach of warm milk, the Phenobarbital, and the sleeping hand on the coverlet, counting up the sins of commissions and omission, the trusts betrayed, the promises subtly broken, the gifts irrevocably wasted through sloth or cowardice, or carelessness. However long we postpone it, we eventually lie down alone in that notoriously uncomfortable bed, the one we make ourselves. Whether or not we sleep in it depends, of course, on whether or not we respect ourselves.”

Self RespectInsomniaProse Poem
Author:Joan Didion
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“The endless ocean was his sole companion , and on some deeply sentimental level, it seemed sufficient. Almost apt. He aligned himself with Thoreau and Tolstoy, he felt like their peers. The kinship with nature devoted humans to a mythical state, a heightened persona beyond the reach of mere mortals. At least that was what he told himself on the lonely nights when insomnia played on his fears and the howling wind pierced through his soul.”

NatureSeaLonelinessWindSolitudeOceanIsolationMortalityInsomniaBeing AloneSentimentalityMan And NatureTolstoyLonely NightsThoreauShunning Society
Book:Consequence
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