Sleeping is so hard when you can’t stop thinking.

Nothing is louder than overthinking after midnight.

As you wake from bed this morning, may the Lord continue to bless you beyond what you have asked for, may his love and peace

Every new day is a chance to begin over. Awaken with a grateful spirit.

I think the most common cause of insomnia is simple; it’s loneliness.

It feels lonely to be up when everyone else is sleeping.

It is a common experience that a problem difficult at night is resolved in the morning after the committee of sleep has worked on it.

I wake up thinking about you.

I think of you at 2 a.m. when I can’t sleep and I wish you were there to hold me.

I lie awake at night thinking of you.

Thinking of you keeps me awake. Dreaming of you keeps me asleep. Being with you keeps me alive.

And so, now, it is almost midnight of the first day, and I have broken my resolution to go to bed early – postponing sleep, and thereby the inevitable waking up in tomorrow. Another device of escape.

Keep calm and enjoy no sleep.

Try staying awake for 24 hours and you’ll realize just how many needless worries your mind instantly shuts out.

And, even though I am a happy person, if I lie in the dark my thoughts veer towards worry. I have found it better to get up than to lie in bed teetering on the edge of nocturnal lunacy.

Ever lie awake at night wondering if there’s something you’re not losing enough sleep over?

Insomniacs don’t sleep because they worry about it, and they worry about it because they don’t sleep.

To awaken a new longing for holiness: this is the great pastoral challenge that we have before us, if we want to be faithful to God’s plan and also to respond to the yearnings and hopes of the peoples of America and of all peoples on earth.

As you get out of bed today, the angels are on standby to do you every bidding and equip you with all the grace and strength needed to face today. Good morning.

An insomniac is a man who is unable to sleep or who, when he does sleep, dreams that he is awake.

I fell asleep last night wanting to kiss you. I woke up this morning and that feeling hasn’t left.

Wishing you the best today as you rise to life, may the Lord’s favour find you today.

Awake all night with melancholy thoughts…

Brain: I can see you’re trying to sleep, can I offer a selection of your worst memories from the last 10 years?

A sad soul is always up past midnight.

You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.

I am a daydreamer and a night thinker.

Not sleeping tonight
Thoughts incoherent in mind
A lucid dream gives solace.

Legend says that when you can’t sleep at night it’s because you’re awake in someone else’s dream.

I woke up so hot this morning. I must have been dreaming of you all night!

It is a special kind of homelessness to be evicted from your dreams.

I knew what he was talking about to an extent – that indistinct line between awake and dreaming. But usually the line sharpened seconds after walking up. It didn’t stick with you and make you question what was real.

She dreams more often than she sleeps.

I can’t get it out of my head. A dream of seven years. Everyday I have this. And sometimes I wake up and I don’t know where I am. I don’t talk to anybody. Sometimes a day – a week. I can’t put it out of my mind.

I dreamt of us last night. It made me long for your presence. Wake up my love so that turn it into reality. Good morning!

You’re like a dream I never want to wake up from, but I; I’m insomniac!

As you wake to a new day, may you blessed by God and start your lovely day with a lovely smile. Good morning.

Wake in the morning with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.

Lord, grant us rest tonight, and if we must be wakeful, cheerful.

Silence is an empty space, space is the home of the awakened mind.

Woke up with you on my mind. Hopefully, I’ll be going to bed with you later.

Morning, babe. I really wish I were there to give you a proper wake-up call if you know what I mean.

I look forward to the day when I don’t have to leave my bed to see you when I wake up. Good morning my prince!!

I’m not sending this text to wake you up am only making sure you smile on your second wake up. Good morning my charming prince!!

I don’t mind staying up all night and being tired the next day as long as I’m talking to you.

There is only one thing in the world that was proved to wake me up better than coffee. It’s morning sex with you.

I always wake up smiling… I think it’s your fault.

I won’t be satisfied until I wake up next to you every morning.

Every morning would be perfect if I woke up next to you.

You are my favorite reason to lose my sleep.

Rise and shine, my love! May the angels guide and protect you throughout the day.

Do you care if my tongue is between your legs when you wake up in the morning?

Some nights I knew that if I slept I would die.

Never get out of bed before noon.

Grind as if any given moment you could wake up broke.

Sleepless nights are for lovers and loners.

Another sleepless night, turn off my light.

Tell me what you think about when you can’t fall asleep at night.

It’s not every day you wake up with a mission in your mind, but I had a mission and I was determined to accomplish it.

A sleepless night is as long as a year.

I had a lot of sleepless nights.

Whelk was not sleeping… he rarely closed his eyes for longer than a few hours at a stretch. He rolled in his bedsheets. He sat bolt upright, woken by whispers… His sleep patterns and energy seemed dictated by something larger and more powerful than himself, ebbing and flowing like an uneven tide.

“Insomnophobia,” or fear of insomnia, is in truth one of the most frequent causes of chronic sleeplessness.

I have never suffered from “insomnia” — I have not sleepless nights but wakeful hours.

I am afflicted, afflicted, afflicted!
Sleep has deserted my eyes
Through my longing for Thee…

Awake until 3 A.M.
hard hours — in the dark
anxious shadows lingered in my imagination.

Whiskey may not cure your insomnia, but it makes you more content to stay awake.

Every cloud has a silver lining: the man with insomnia doesn’t keep others awake with his snoring.

I ran in the house and I fell in a heap.
I needed my rest, but I just couldn’t sleep…
I tossed and I flipped and I

A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by,
One after one; the sound of rain, and bees
Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas,
Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky;
I’ve thought of all by turns; and still I lie
Sleepless… last night, and two nights more, I lay,
And could not win thee, Sleep! by any stealth:
So do not let me wear to-night away:
Without Thee what is all the morning’s wealth?
Come, blessed barrier betwixt day and day,
Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!

An insomniac finds it hard to fall asleep at night, and even harder to stay awake by day.

Is the insomniac one who is wide awake because he can’t sleep, or one who can’t sleep because he is wide awake?

Sometimes I only sleep to wake up.

I never noticed anything but you
But you but you
So that I couldn’t sleep.

I can’t wait to wake up and try something new. I can’t sleep at night because I want to try something new.

You haven’t a bad case of insomnia unless you can’t even sleep when it’s time to get up.

An insomniac is either asleep with one eye open, or awake with both eyes shut.

When I had lain awake a little awhile, those extraordinary voices with which silence teems, began to make themselves audible. The closet whispered, the fireplace sighed, the little washing-stand ticked, and one guitar-string played occasionally in the chest of drawers.

I’ve seen far more sunrises because I was up late than I have because I was up early.

Everything that occurs in your life is part of God’s plan to wake you up.

My dad was a truck driver. We all used to ride along with him. And the way he’d keep awake was to sing while he was going down the road. So we all joined in.

Every morning I wake up and thank God.

Wake up and shine in the light of God, may you be position for God’s favor today, good morning.

I hadn’t slept for seven nights.

My mother told me I must have slept, it was impossible not to sleep in all that time, but if I slept, it was with my eyes wide open, for I had followed the green, luminous course of the second hand and the minute hand and the hour hand of the bedside clock through their circles and semi-circles, every night for seven nights, without missing a second, or a minute, or an hour.

The reason I hadn’t washed my clothes or my hair was because it seemed so silly.

I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from another was sleep, like a black shade. Only for me, the long perspective of shades that set off one box from the next had suddenly snapped up, and I could see day after day after day glaring ahead of me like a white, broad, infinitely desolate avenue.

It seemed silly to wash one day when I would only have to wash again the next.

It made me tired just to think of it.

I wanted to do everything once and for all and be through with it.

Who sleeps at night? No one is sleeping.

In the cradle a child is screaming.

An old man sits over his death, and anyone

young enough talks to his love, breathes

into her lips, looks into her eyes.

Waking up was a daily cruelty, an affront, and she avoided it by not sleeping.

Insomnia

I cannot get to sleep tonight.
I toss and turn and flop.
I try to count some fluffy sheep
while o’er a fence they hop.
I try to think of pleasant dreams
of places really cool.
I don’t know why I cannot sleep –
I slept just fine at school.

I was born in the city that never sleeps so perhaps insomnia is my birthright.

I won’t sleep
if that’s what it takes
to not wake up
as myself.

Oh God, midnight’s not bad, you wake and go back to sleep, one or two’s not bad, you toss but sleep again. Five or six in the morning, there’s hope, for dawn’s just under the horizon. But three, now, Christ, three A.M.! Doctors say the body’s at low tide then. The soul is out. The blood moves slow. You’re the nearest to dead you’ll ever be save dying. Sleep is a patch of death, but three in the morn, full wide-eyed staring, is living death! You dream with your eyes open. God, if you had strength to rouse up, you’d slaughter your half-dreams with buckshot! But no, you lie pinned to a deep well-bottom that’s burned dry. The moon rolls by to look at you down there, with its idiot face. It’s a long way back to sunset, a far way on to dawn, so you summon all the fool things of your life, the stupid lovely things done with people known so very well who are now so very dead – And wasn’t it true, had he read somewhere, more people in hospitals die at 3 A.M. than at any other time…

Insomnia never comes to a man who has to get up exactly at 6’ Clock. Insomnia troubles only those who can sleep any time.

When it becomes really impossible to get away and sleep, then the will to live evaporates of its own accord.

You can hear it in the midst of the night
While your gaze roams the vast plains on the ceiling.

Physical activity within four hours of bedtime and illness can also cause this type of insomnia.

Some thoughts are too angry to sleep. They lie awake all night and become obsessions.

The last refuge of the insomniac is a sense of superiority to the sleeping world.

Not being able to sleep because that certain someone is on your mind.

The loneliest thing in the world is lying awake beside someone asleep.

My life has become an endless cycle of ‘I can’t sleep’ and ‘I can’t stay awake.’

I’m so exhausted and yet I feel like I’ll never sleep again.

Most people do not consider dawn to be an attractive experience—unless they are still up.

I’m awake and I can’t sleep. The more I’m awake, the more I see, and the harder to sleep.

I can’t go to sleep. You will always be on my mind, even if you are not with me.

Three out of four voices in my head want to sleep. The other wants to know if penguins have knees.

My no sleep game is too strong.

Some people can’t sleep because they have insomnia. I can’t sleep because I have the internet connection.

I wish I had someone to talk to when I can’t sleep.

Morning: Tired
Afternoon: Dying for a rest
Night: Can’t Sleep

Third eye of the sea,
the lonely lighthouse
never sleeps.

A good cop can’t sleep at night because he’s missing a piece of the puzzle. And a bad cop can’t sleep because his conscience won’t let him.

Sometimes I sit up late with my thoughts, reluctant to fall asleep and leave my thoughts alone by themselves.

I wish I could fall asleep. But with a good book in my hands, I stay awake to finish reading.

I was asleep but my mind was awake. Now, I’m awake, but my mind is still asleep.

The reasons we don’t sleep at night are usually the same reasons we don’t truly live during the day.

He imagined himself lying there, unable to sleep, thinking of his mother, separated from her by the unresponsive blankets tucked too tightly round him, feeling the ceaseless thumping of his heart in the silence of the night, the irrevocability of absence, the rigid stillness of repose, the agony of solitude and sleeplessness. If the room was a prison, the bed was a tomb.

That night I slept badly, thrashing about in my bed, not quite asleep and not quite awake. At times I had the feeling there was someone else in my bedroom who was talking to me, but of course I could not deal with this perception in any realistic way, since I was half-asleep and half-awake, and thus, for all practical purposes, I was out of my mind.

Perhaps it’s something other than insomnia, to lie listening to children yelling as if they’ve re-created light; to try to dream, but succeed only in remembering; to toss and sweat in a dirty paste of sheets, while the drone of a ball game is gradually replaced by the buzz of a fly — a fly buzzing like the empty frequencies between stations as its shadow grows enormous between the shade and windowpane. Is it insomnia for a man to wad his ears with the cotton from a pill bottle, to mask his eyes with blinders, and press a stale pillow over his head, praying for another day to burn down, so he can wake into another night?

I haven’t been to sleep for over a year. That’s why I go to bed early. One needs more rest if one doesn’t sleep.

And that night he couldn’t sleep, but lay looking out at the light June night which was full of lonely whisperings and rustlings and the pattering of feet. The air was sweet with the smell of flowers.

The creak of bed springs suffering under the weight of a restless man is as lonely a sound as I know.

Tonight is going to be a big night, like any other night, because certain 10 million Americans will not be able to sleep well tonight.

But who, in these modern times, slept well?

I didn’t sleep all night, thinking. I thought about you, about those puppy eyes you give me, when you fake your sadness to make me smile– and that upper lip of yours that brings life to all of my senses. I thought about your laughter when you get tickled, and that soft mellow place near your arm pit that I wish could be knit into a pillow for me to hug all night long. I thought about your stomach, your soft and sensitive stomach, scared like a baby kitten under the pouring rain. And I remembered the feeling of protection that comes washing over me when I get a glimpse of it, the feeling of covering it with the layers of my very own skin. I remembered your head when it rests on my heart, a rock sheltering itself on the verdure of infinity. I remembered your silky black hair, and how I never imagined that hair curls so thin could twirl, in the way they do, the rigid core of my existence.

But his dread was the nights when he could not sleep. Then it was awful indeed, when annihilation pressed in on him on every side. Then it was ghastly, to exist without having any life: lifeless, in the night, to exist.

It was the middle of the night, and Bingo couldn’t sleep. The ground was hard, but he was used to that. . . .His blanket was dirty and smelled disgusting, but he was used to that too. A tune kept going through his head, and he couldn’t get it out of his mind. It was the Wendels’ victory song.

All I want is this night to end,
But this insomnia keeps me awake
Till the sunlight shines on my bed
and the thoughts die in my head.

Insomnia is the act of pushing through sleep to achieve the art of insane creativity.

I lay awake for a long time. It was like sitting in a cinema after the lights go down, waiting for the previews to begin. But nothing was happening. I regretted the coffee.

Whenever I feel myself sinking into a deep sleep, something always recalls me: “Not so fast now. Suppose you should go to sleep and it should happen. What then?” Clearly nothing. Yet there I lie, wakeful and watchful as a sentry, ears tuned to the slightest noise.

Insomnia is a glamorous term for thoughts you forgot to have in the day.

It is better to sleep on things beforehand than lie awake about them afterward.

When you have insomnia, you’re never really asleep, and you’re never really awake. With insomnia, nothing’s real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy.

I wonder why I don’t go to bed and go to sleep. But then it would be tomorrow, so I decide that no matter how tired, no matter how incoherent I am, I can skip on hour more of sleep and live.

At night, I can’t sleep. In the morning, I can’t wake up.

I find the nights long, for I sleep but little, and think much.

Nothing cures insomnia like the realization that it’s time to get up.

My day starts backwards … I wake up tired and go to bed wide awake.

An awake heart is like a lighthouse helping others to find a safe way home.

We often take for granted the simple fact that we can get out of bed in the morning.

Evening by the lakes, Jeeps, drones and the sunset awakes.