A Quote by Charles Bukowski
The best thing about the bedroom was the bed. I liked to stay in bed for hours, even during the day with covers pulled up to my chin. It was good in there, nothing ever occurred in there, no people, nothing.
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I've heard expressions like, 'Are you good in bed?' What does that even mean? For me, good in bed means sleeping seven hours. Undisturbed! If I get eight hours, that means I'm amazing!
O Death, the Consecrator! Nothing so sanctifies a name As to be written--Dead. Nothing so wins a life from blame, So covers it from wrath and shame, As doth the burial-bed.
I like those blow-up beds. "This becomes a full size bed in three minutes!" Well, a mattress kicks your ass. Zero seconds. "Yeah, but you can store this thing." You can store a bed, too - in the bedroom.
I don't know how much longer that's going to last but I can tell you this much: If I was to listen and pay attention to everyone that criticized me for, some rightly and some wrongly, I'd stay home under the bed. I don't mean under the covers, I mean under the bed. I would never have achieved a single thing.
What does good in bed mean to me? When I'm sick and I stay home from school propped up with lots of pillows watching TV and my mom brings me soup - that's good in bed.
To me, the one thing you should splurge on, if you only have a certain amount of money to spend, is your bed because you spend about 30 percent of your life in bed, and you should be comfortable, and you should wake up every day just feeling good.
Exercise is very important, first of all if you think about it, especially in a long flight like a six month space flight and on the ISS. If you didn't exercise and used the analogy on earth, it would be like laying in bed. So, just imagine laying in bed for several months, and even just trying to get up and walk, you probably wouldn't be able to. But if you got up and you exercised two hours a day, you'd probably be okay, and that's the same in space.
On a beautiful day like this it would be best to stay in bed so you wouldn't get up and spoil it!
It's only life. We all get through it. Not all of us complete the journey in the same condition. Along the way, some lose their legs or eyes in acidents or altercations, while others skate through the years with nothing worse to worry about than an occassional bad-hair day. I still possessed both legs and both eyes, and even my hair looked all right when I rose that Wednesday morning in late January. If I returned to bed sixteen hours later, having lost all my hair but nothing else, I would consider the day a triumph. Even minus a few teeth, I'd call it a triumph.
I had paralyzing fear as a kid. I couldn't watch horror movies, nothing. The funny thing is I got so sick of being afraid that I started doing it deliberately and instead of being afraid in my bed I would sit up on my bed and say, 'ok, come on, show yourself, do it.'
In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people's feet
Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?
Every fight day, I just stay in my room the entire day, and I just stay in bed. I sleep as late as I can, which usually isn't very late; I'm kind of an early riser. But I try to just stay there in bed. I don't usually eat the day of the fight. I don't eat until after the fight.
You're burned into my mind forever. There is nothing, nothing in this world that will ever change that." And it was memories like that that made it so hard to comprehend this quest to kill him, even if he was a Strigoi. Yet...at the same time I had to destroy him. I needed to remember him as the man who'd loved me and held me in bed. I needed to remember that that man would not want to stay a monster.
There is a riddle about a man who is locked in a room with nothing but a bed and a calendar, and the question is: How does he survive? The answer is: He eats dates from the calendar and drinks from the springs of the bed.
The best way not to find the bed too cold is to go to bed colder than the bed is.
I sleep for about four hours a night, or day really. I go to bed at, like, 9 A.M., sleep for four hours, then get up and start the day again. I don't mind if that's not healthy.
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