Top 1200 Bed Time Quotes & Sayings - Page 17

I have to get out of bed every day to make something happen.

I go to bed dreaming, thinking that I want to be the best in the octagon and be a champion.

Honestly, I stay in a lot of hotels, and it makes me miss my bed.

Oh, it's nice to get up in the mornin', But it's nicer to lie in bed.

I love men in bed when they are sleeping. But then they have to go and wake up.

It's my first love what I dreaming of when I go to bed, when I lay my head upon my pillow.

The worst position you are in is when you are on the medical bed, and you can't get out on that training pitch.

Use coconut oil to remove makeup, and do it before going to bed.

What do they say about meeting a bear in the woods? Oh right, you shouldn't. And to make sure you don't, you should make a lot of noise so that they'll will know where you are and keep their distance because, supposedly, they're as nervous of us as we are of them. Which is all goo, except this bear doesn't seem the least bit nervous. He's giving me a look like I'm Goldilocks, ate his porridge, broke his chair, slept in his bed, and now it's payback time."- Widdershins

The biggest need that women have is more time. We all want more time in our lives. More time in the morning to get ready. More time in the evening to spend time with our families. All of these things - more time to move up that career path. It's about time.

Time is totally perishable and cannot be stored. Yesterday's time is gone forever, and will never come back. Time is always in short supply. There is no substitute for time. Everything requires time.

If you want to change the world, start off by making your bed.

Recognize that there is a time to be left-brained and a time to be right-brained; a time to be efficient and a time to be creative; a time to work and a time to play.

My goal is to get in bed by 11. That rarely happens. But I celebrate when it does happen.

I asked my schoolmate Mary to write a letter to me. She was funny and full of life. She liked to run around her empty house without any clothes on, even once she was too old for that. Nothing embarrassed her. I admired that so much, because everything embarrassed me, and that hurt me. She loved to jump on her bed. She jumped on her bed for so many years that one afternoon, while I watched her jump, the seams burst. Feathers filled the small room. Our laughter kept the feathers in the air. I thought about birds. Could they fly if there wasn’t someone, somewhere, laughing?

I went to bed last night dreaming of tuna melts. I love food.

The Greeks had two words for time. Chronos is the time we usually keep an eye on. Kairos was our participation of time. Time that moves us so that we lose our sense of time; timeless time; moments at which the clocks seems to stop; feeding, renewing, more motherly time. It's the time with which we feel one instead of outside of it, the self, the tao, the love that connects us to others.

No, I'm not religious, I'm sorry to say. But I was once and shall be again. There is no time now to be religious." "No time. Does it need time to be religious?" "Oh, yes. To be religious you must have time and, even more, independence of time. You can't be religious in earnest and at the same time live in actual things and still take them seriously, time and money and the Odéon Bar and all that.

I stay up really late, even if I'm not working; I don't go to bed early.

Adding CO2 to the air is like throwing another blanket on the bed.

I would never do a role where I'm naked in bed with a chick having sex.

I was depressed a lot as a kid, and I was really sad and wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

When I was young, I would make my parents breakfast in bed on Saturday mornings.

Sheep. Looting. Cousins." Lucien cursed and got out of bed.

I think everyone should go to bed like they have a date at the door.

I've got a stack of the 'Walking Dead' comic books next to my bed here.

Teach me to live, that I may dread The grave as little as my bed.

I'll die propped up in bed trying to do a poem about America.

Ahhh. Bed, book, kitten, sandwich. All one needed in life, really.

I'm a shockingly bad sleeper. In bed very late. Awake at the crack of dawn.

White on rice. Green on grass. Sheets on a bed. Him on her.

I would stay in bed and get an extra 10 minutes sleep

THE SERUM WEARS off five hours later, when the sun is just beginning to set. Tobias shut me in my room for the rest of the day, checking on me every hour. This time when he comes in, I am sitting on the bed, glaring at the wall. “Thank God,” he says, pressing his forehead to the door. “I was beginning to think it would never wear off and I would have to leave you here to … smell flowers, or whatever you wanted to do while you were on that stuff.

I drink a ton of water. And I never go to bed too full.

Reading is like the sex act - done privately, and often in bed.

He who's down one day can be up the next, unless he really wants to stay in bed, that is.

So passeth, in the passing of a day, Of mortal life, the leaf, the bud, the flower; No more doth flourish after first decay, That erst was sought to deck both bed and bower Of many a lady and many a paramour. Gather therefore the rose whilst yet in prime, For soon comes age that will her pride deflower. Gather the rose of love whilst yet in time, Whilst loving thou mayst loved be with equal crime.

That's what they want: two women. Fellas, I think that's a bit lofty. Because, come on, think about it - if you can't satisfy that one woman, why do you want to piss off another one? Why have two angry women in the bed with you at the same time? And think about it - you know how much you hate to talk after sex, imagine having two women just nagging you to death.

What a time herbs and weeds, and such things could talk, A man in his garden one day did walk, Spying a nettle green (as th'emeraude) spread in a bed of roses like the ruby red. Between which two colors he thought, but his eye, The green nettle did the red rose beautify. "How be it," he asked the nettle, "what thing Made him so pert? So nigh the Rose to Spring.

Time is the most valuable thing on earth: time to think, time to act, time to extend our fraternal relations, time to become better men, time to become better women, time to become better and more independent citizens.

That evidence of the spirit of life is what makes me get out of bed in the morning.

It's a cruel season that makes you get ready for bed while it's light out.

I have a brass bed that's very 'Bedknobs and Broomsticks.' I got it on eBay. It's from the early 1900s.

I won't get out of bed for less than $10,000 a day.

I take a grave view of the press. It is the weak slat under the bed of democracy.

I don't sleep well. I rehash everything in bed. The mind's still working.

Lean too much upon the approval of people, and it becomes a bed of thorns.

Lee Strasberg told me I had talent. Real talent. It was the first time that anyone, except my father--who had to say so--told me I was good. At anything. It was a turning point in my life. I went to bed thinking about acting. I woke up thinking about acting. It was like the roof had come off my life!

When, as a child, I first opened my eyes on a Sunday-morning, a feeling of dismal anicipation, which began at least on the Friday,culminated. I knew what was before me, and my wish, if not my word, was "Would God it were evening!" It was no day of rest, but a day of texts, of catechisms (Watts'), of tracts about converted swearers, godly charwomen, and edifying deaths of sinners saved.... There was but one rosy spot, in the distance, all that day: and that was "bed-time," which never could come too early!

There was no one to call me to bed, no one to demand that the rhythms of my life operate in a duet.

I was perpetually grief-stricken when I finished a book, and would slide down from my sitting position on the bed, put my cheek on the pillow and sigh for a long time. It seemed there would never be another book. It was all over, the book was dead. It lay in its bent cover by my hand. What was the use? Why bother dragging the weight of my small body down to dinner? Why move? Why breathe? The book had left me, and there was no reason to go on.

Art arises from loss. I wish this weren't the case. I wish that every time I met a new woman and she rocked my world, I was inspired to write my ass off. But that is not what happens. What happens is we lie around in bed eating chocolate and screwing. Art is what happens when things don't work out, when you're licking your wounds. Art is, to a larger extent than people would like to think, a productive licking of the wounds.

That six or seven hours you have to be in bed with your eyes closed. What a waste!

If you don't have to get out of bed and do something every morning, that's kind of a curse.

One of the great things about the old days of television, 10 years ago, or 15 years ago, was that it was water cooler television. People would communally watch the same hour. People used to tell us all the time, we turn off the phones, we put the kids to bed and that one hour is uninterrupted. Then, the next day at the water cooler, they all talk about it.

I've got an air mattress for a bed...really living the high life.

And some to Meccah turn to pray, and I toward thy bed, Yasmin.

When I'm in bed with a woman, my favorite move is a wrestling hold called the lip lock.

When i was younger i remember once i went to bed and i was so happy that i laughed myself to sleep.

I remember seeing a movie with Jose Ferrer and Rosemary Clooney where they were husband and wife, and they got in bed, and he had on polka-dot pajamas and she had on striped pajamas, and when they got up the next morning he had on the striped pajamas and she had the polka dot pajamas, and that was considered racy at that time!