I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?
Up, Sluggard, and waste not life; in the grave will be sleeping enough.
Sleep, that deplorable curtailment of the joy of life.
Sleep is the most innocent creature there is and a sleepless man the most guilty.
As a day well spent procures a happy sleep, so a life well employed procures a happy death.
