140 Awesome Awake Quotes To Keep You Wide Awake At Any Time

Awake

You've probably heard of ‘stay woke'. The state of being aware of things going on around you and not turning a blind eye to what you see. Well, most of us are awake but not woke. We hardly see things as they are. We can easily get duped into believing anything and everything.

When you are woke, you know that things can change in a second. Everything you believed you knew can be turned around, leaving you questioning your whole existence. Staying woke means you are not just awake, but in the know too.

You know what's happening, why it's happening, what you should do in that situation, and how you can help others. You are wiser than the average population and people can come to you for more insight on things. You are alert.

This collection of awake quotes will motivate you to stay woke and knowledgeable. As long as you are not asleep, you can easily be woke. But what if you are struggling with sleep and need to stay awake for longer?

Things like exercise, caffeine, bright lights, a shower, and movements can help you remain alert. You could also eat some snacks like baby carrots, chocolate, and fruits. Or, you could talk to someone. Strict deadlines and exams could call for extra hours into the night.

Spending an all-nighter when necessary is okay. It's a show of dedication and hard work. However, sleep is also vital. Don't spend too many all-nighters in a row as this could affect your mind's sleep cycle.

If you feel sleepy a lot during the day when you should be alert at work or school, you could set out some time for naps. Naps take the sleepiness edge off and can reenergize you. But avoid long naps. Here are awake quotes that will keep you wide-eyed!

Awake Quotes

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 abide in your heart now and forever, good morning.

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

🔥 Attention Quotes Enthusiasts!

Unleash the full potential of your love for quotes by signing up for a FREE account and start saving all your favorite quotes today!

Register Now! 1 minute setup. No spam, cancel anytime.
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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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!

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!

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’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!!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

About the contents of this page

Amra conducted research on the quotes with the assistance of Annabele.

Maggie organized the quotes into topics.

Charity wrote the introduction copy.

Schenley designed exclusive images for the quotes.

Get the Full MRQ Experience

Create a Collection
of Your Favorite Quotes

You need an account to access your Collections

Loading..