Sleeping Quotes - page 22
Before you do anything, think. If you do something to try and impress someone, to be loved, accepted or even to get someone's attention, stop and think. So many people are busy trying to create an image, they die in the process. Sleeping with the wrong person is one thing, but not using a condom because you want to please someone, or because you're in a romantic bubble, is another. ... I wish we weren't so busy trying to impress people.
Salma Hayek
Western man has progressively accepted the use of violence during the years since the outbreak of the First World War. In that war the Germans began the practice of indiscriminate bombing of civilian populations of British cities. ...The peoples of the Allied world and of neutral countries were shocked and outraged by this evidence of German inhumanity and bestiality... the dropping of bombs on men, women and children sleeping peacefully in their beds in great cities. ...By the year 1945 most people of the United Nations were rejoicing over the winning of the war through the destruction from the air of numerous German and Japanese cities, and were revealing scarcely a qualm of conscience over this unequaled devastation and annihilation. The practice from which they had recoiled in horror less than three decades previously, they were now using with cold premeditation and concentrated skill. And nothing like the havoc they wrought had ever before been seen on this earth.
Kirby Page
I'm writing this book because we're all going to die - In the loneliness of my life, my father dead, my brother dead, my mother far away, my sister and my wife far away, nothing here but my own tragic hands that once were guarded by a world, a sweet attention, that now are left to guide and disappear their own way into the common dark of all our death, sleeping in me raw bed, alone and stupid...
Jack Kerouac
What did it matter where you lay once you were dead? In a dirty sump or in a marble tower on top of a high hill? You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered by things like that. Oil and water were the same as wind and air to you. You just slept the big sleep, not caring about the nastiness of how you died or where you fell. Me, I was part of the nastiness now. Far more a part of it than Rusty Regan was. But the old man didn't have to be. He could lie quiet in his canopied bed, with his bloodless hands folded on the sheet, waiting. His heart was a brief, uncertain murmur. His thoughts were as gray as ashes. And in a little while he too, like Rusty Regan, would be sleeping the big sleep.
Raymond Chandler
I was not the power behind the throne.
Did I ever give Ronnie advice? You bet I did. I'm the one who knows him best, and I was the only person in the White House who had absolutely no agenda of her own - except helping him.
And so I make no apologies for telling him what I thought. Just because you're married doesn't mean you have no right to express your opinions. For eight years I was sleeping with the president, and if that doesn't give you special access, I don't know what does!
So yes, I gave Ronnie my best advice - whenever he asked for it, and sometimes when he didn't. But that doesn't mean he always took it. Ronald Reagan has a mind of his own.
Nancy Reagan
In Saudi Arabia, everything bad was the fault of the Jews. When the air conditioner broke or suddenly the tap stopped running, the Saudi women next door used to say the Jews did it. The children next door were taught to pray for the health of their parents and the destruction of the Jews. Later, when we went to school, our teachers lamented at length all the evil things Jews had done and planned to do against Muslims. When they were gossiping, the women next door used to say, "She's ugly, she's disobedient, she's a whore--she's sleeping with a Jew." Jews were like djinns, I decided. I had never met a Jew. (Neither had these Saudis.)
Ayaan Hirsi Ali
How come you write the way you do?” an apprentice writer in my Johns Hopkins workshop once disingenuously asked Donald Barthelme, who was visiting. Without missing a beat, Donald replied, "Because Samuel Beckett was already writing the way he does.”
Asked another, likewise disingenuosly, "How can we become better writers than we are?”
"For starters," DB advised, "read through the whole history of philosophy, from the pre-Socratics up through last semester. That might help.”
"But Coach Barth has already advised us to read all of literature, from Gilgamesh up through last semester....”
"That, too,” Donald affirmed, and turned on that shrewd Amish-farmer-from-West-Eleventh-Street twinkle of his. "You're probably wasting time on things like eating and sleeping. Cease that, and read all of philosophy and all of literature. Also art. Plus politics and a few other things. The history of everything.
Donald Barthelme
Dinosaur fossils? God put those here to test our faith." I think God put you here to test my faith, dude. Does that bother anybody else-the idea that God might be ... fucking with our heads? I have trouble sleeping with that knowledge. Some prankster God running around, [pantomimes digging] "We'll see who believes in Me now! I am the Prankster God. I am killing Me!
Bill Hicks
It takes one kind of heroism to undergo unimaginable pain and suffering as a POW but then persist in loyalty. It takes another kind of heroism to sustain that passion for decades more, to withstand the slings and arrows of politics, the compromises, the disappointments, the defeats, and yet still consider it a joy and an honor to serve. Few have either kind of heroism. John McCain had both. Fortunately, all that intensity came paired with a world-class sense of humor. As we all know, John really hated to lose. The line he used after his Presidential campaigns still makes me laugh. Some would ask how he was coping with defeat. John would say: "Actually, I'm sleeping like a baby. You know--I sleep for two hours, wake up, and cry." Seriously, it is hard to describe this larger-than-life figure without lapsing into what sound like cliches.
Mitch McConnell
They dug too far into physics and it bit them. Physics will do that. It's an ungrateful piece of shit. It's a fickle lover that will always betray you. It courts you, gives you rewards, coughs up little treats like fire and the wheel, telescopes and the secret of starflight, makes you think you're worth it, that you're the special one, that you really, really matter to it....All the while it's saving up this nasty little truth: that every thought, every deed, every hope you've ever held is futile. That the universe will end, and forget itself. That there is no such thing as meaning....
"Do you believe it?” Goma asked.
"Of course I believe it. Physics doesn't give a damn about how we feel. It doesn't give a damn about a sleeping soundly in our beds, thinking we matter.
Alastair Reynolds
I dove into the middle of it instead of starting at the beginning. I came across a lot of beautiful poetry about the whiteness of the whale and the colors of nightmares and the great spirit's spout. And I came upon a section toward the end where Ahab stands at the rail and says: "It is a mild, mild wind, and a mild looking sky; and the air smells now, as if it blew from a far-away meadow; they have been making hay somewhere under the slopes of the Andes, Starbuck, and the mowers are sleeping among the new-mown hay.” I turned back to the start: "Call me Ishmael.” I was in love! You fall in love with poetry. You fall in love with Shakespeare. I'd been in love with Shakespeare since I was fourteen. I was able to do the job not because I was in love with Melville, but because I was in love with Shakespeare. Shakespeare wrote Moby-Dick, using Melville as a Ouija board.
Ray Bradbury
The heroes who shed their blood and lost their lives on this country's soil! You are in the soil of a friendly country now. Therefore rest in peace. You are side by side with the little Mehmets. The mothers who send their sons to the war! Wipe your tears away. Your sons are in our bosom, are in peace and will be sleeping in peace comfortably. From now on, they have became our sons since they have lost their lives on this land.
Mustafa Kemal Atatürk
A duster thrown to leadoff batter Roberto Clemente by Sal Maglie in the September 21 game was credited with playing a major role in the Pirates' 2 to 1 win over the Dodgers. "You should have heard our players on the bench," said Bucco coach Clyde Sukeforth, formerly of the Dodger staff. "They were madder than at anytime I've seen 'em this season. It was a stupid thing to do. It got the guys fighting mad. It would have been better to let sleeping dogs lie."
Roberto Clemente
I asked Face if he remembered where he was when he learned that Clemente had died in an airplane crash on New Year's Eve of 1972. Again, somewhat strangely, a smile. "I was sleeping," he said. He was living in Penn Hills at the time with his first wife, Jeanne Kuran, who was from Pittsburgh and to whom he was married for 25 years, and their daughter Michelle, then 17, who woke him up to tell him the bad news about Clemente. Face remembered his reaction to Michelle's wake-up call. "I said, ‘Better him than me,' and rolled over and went back to sleep." It sounded harsh. Face chortled at his own story.
Roberto Clemente
Resistance through violence and killing is wrong and does not succeed. For centuries, black people in America suffered the lash of the whip as slaves and the humiliation of segregation. But it was not violence that won full and equal rights. It was a peaceful and determined insistence upon the ideals at the centre of America's founding. This same story can be told by people from South Africa to South Asia; from Eastern Europe to Indonesia. It's a story with a simple truth: violence is a dead end. It is a sign of neither courage nor power to shoot rockets at sleeping children, or to blow up old women on a bus. That is not how moral authority is claimed; that is how it is surrendered.
Barack Obama
