Meg Cabot Quotes

The capital phenomenon, the most catastrophic disaster, is uninterrupted sleeplessness, that nothingness without release.

I don't sleep. I hate those little slices of death.

Well, I've realized I can function with no sleep!

I've gone days without sleeping.

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.

There is a gulf fixed between those who can sleep and those who cannot. It is one of the greatest divisions of the human race.

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.

I hate being awake at three in the morning. It is the godforsaken heart of darkness when the body runs slow, and the brain runs slower, and all you want to do is sleep. But I had promises to keep, and miles to go before I could sleep. Or at least a couple of miracles to perform before I could go to bed.

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

My life has been regulated by insomnia.

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.

Just as ecstasy purifies you of the particular and the contingent, leaving nothing except light and darkness, so insomnia kills off the multiplicity and diversity of the world, leaving you prey to your private obsessions.

My own eyes try to sleep, but they don't. They stay wide awake as time snarls forward and silence drops down, like measured thought.

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

Another intruder that plagues our good health is sleeplessness. Insomnia is much like constipation in that stress or nervous tension can bring it on or aggravate it until there's almost no coping with it. That's why you find sleeping pills in so many medicine cabinets next to the laxatives.

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?

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

I don't like to sleep. I'm missing something when I'm sleeping.

Sleep is like a cat: It only comes to you if you ignore it.

A little insomnia is not without its value in making us appreciate sleep, in throwing a ray of light upon that darkness.

In the hours without sleep, each moment is so full and so vacant that it suggests itself as a rival of Time.

I have such a desire to sleep and am so much behind my sleep. A good night, one good night and all this nonsense will be swept away.