A Quote by Nazim Hikmet

At eighteen you sleep without memories. — © Nazim Hikmet
At eighteen you sleep without memories.
To me, that's where memories are very interesting because what happens when we start losing memories? What happens when you can't take your memories with you? Who are we without our memories, without our past?
At eighteen you don't think about memories, you tell them.
I believe that without memories there is no life, and that our memories should be of happy times.
Sleep is harder to reach and thinner, and sleeping is no longer the Drop into the black pit all oblivion until the alarm clock, no, sleep is thin and fitful and full of memories and reminders and the dark is never dark enough.
If you can cultivate wholesome mental states prior to sleep and allow them to continue right into sleep without getting distracted, then sleep itself becomes wholesome.
We are the sum total of our memories. Memories are the most precious things we have. Good or bad. That's what make us who we are. What would we be without them?
I want the same one, the way she always is, without failures, without fights, without bad memories.
You have your wonderful memories," people said later, as if memories were solace. Memories are not. Memories are by definition of times past, things gone. Memories are the Westlake uniforms in the closet, the faded and cracked photographs, the invitations to the weddings of the people who are no longer married, the mass cards from the funerals of the people whose faces you no longer remember. Memories are what you no longer want to remember.
You can't go to sleep without a cup of tea and maybe thats the reason that you talk in your sleep.
I want to live with all of my memories, even if they’re sad memories. I believe that if I stay strong, someday I’ll overcome the pain, and then I’ll be glad that I have those memories. I believe that there are no memories that are okay to forget.
I'm always without sleep. I've got two kids. I understand sleep deprivation on a profound level.
Eighteen years doing this, my friend. Eighteen years - combat sport. I think you will not find this in history, I believe.
Sleep would be so welcome. A warm blanket of black to erase everything else. Sleep without dreams.
My theory is that literature is essential to society in the way that dreams are essential to our lives. We can't live without dreaming - as we can't live without sleep. We are 'conscious' beings for only a limited period of time, then we sink back into sleep - the 'unconscious.' It is nourishing, in ways we can't fully understand.
A land without ruins is a land without memories - a land without memories is a land without history.
He seems the incarnation of everything soft and silky and velvety, without a sharp edge in his composition, a dreamer whose philosophy is sleep and let sleep.
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