Not A Morning Person Quotes

I am not a morning person. Never have been - never want to be. As a matter of fact, I am vaguely distrustful of people who bound out of bed early like demented puppies. It's barbaric to wake up before 9:00 a.m. ~ P.C. Cast

I'm a creature of the night." Slitted eyes peered at her suspiciously. "Good God, you're not a morning person, are you? ~ Tiffany Allee

Nico stepped into the sunlight, blinking and disoriented. Ugh ... Perhaps the cabin's designers had been right about the children of Hades being like vampires. He was not a morning person. ~ Rick Riordan

That wasn't me. I'm not a morning person. There's another person inside of me that does all the morning things. ~ N.D. Wilson

I am not a morning person. I like to sleep in. ~ Martha Plimpton

Good morning, sunshine," he said, his smile quickly disappearing in the face of her murderous glance when she raised her face to look at him.

"Shut up and die, morning person. Coffee," she mumbled.

Right. Note to self. Mate was not a morning person. He poured a cup of coffee and placed it on the table near her hand along with the sweetener and cream. He watched as she poured three packets of Equal into the coffee with her forehead still on the table. He looked on in amazement as she felt around and unscrewed the cap to the cream before dousing the dark liquid. She stirred for a second before dragging the cup to her lips. After a few sips she was able to lift her head. By the time she had finished half a cup she was sitting upright. When she finished the cup, her eyes were open and she was looking around.

"You need to be a coffee commercial," Connor said, staring at his mate. ~ Alanea Alder

I am not a morning person. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

I am not a morning person, I am not an afternoon person, I am not a late-night person....In fact, I don't think I am a person after all. ~ Rachna Singh

You must be excessively hungry, Mr. Merritt," she said
graciously. Mademoiselle would have been so proud of her.
"Perhaps you are not a morning person?"
He smiled, finally bringing his devastating sky blue
morning gaze fully upon her face.
"I thought perhaps if I filled my mouth with biscuits, I
might keep my foot out of it for a while. ~ Mona Karel

Only because I'm not a morning person. (Joe)
And you're not a night person either. Face it, babe. You've only got two good minutes a day. The minute before noon and the minute right after. (Tee) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

You're not a morning person, are you? (Simone)
I'm a Dream-Hunter/demon. By my very nature I'm nocturnal. That big yellow ball in the sky offends me to the very core of my being. (Xypher) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

I am not a morning person, but I always work out - always. ~ Viola Davis

She remembers her name. She remembers the name of the president. She remembers the name of the president's dog. She remembers what city she lives in. And on which street. And in which house. The one with the big olive tree where the road takes a turn. She remembers what year it is. She remembers the season. She remembers the day on which you were born. She remembers the daughter who was born before you – She had your father's nose, that was the first thing I noticed about her – but she does not remember that daughter's name. She remembers the name of the man she did not marry – Frank – and she keeps his letters in a drawer by her bed. She remembers that you once had a husband, but she refuses to remember your ex-husband's name. That man, she calls him.

She does not remember how she got the bruises on her arms or going for a walk with you earlier this morning. She does not remember bending over, during that walk, and plucking a flower from a neighbour's front yard and slipping it into her hair. Maybe your father will kiss me now. She does not remember what she ate for dinner last night, or when she last took her medicine. She does not remember to drink enough water. She does not remember to comb her hair.

She remembers the rows of dried persimmons that once hung from the eaves of her mother's house in Berkeley. They were the most beautiful shade of orange. She remembers that your father loves peaches. She remembers that every Sunday morning, at ten, he ta ~ Julie Otsuka

March 18...[1945]
Brief morning reflection arisen from great love. In fact, the main point after all is that for forty years we have so much loved one another and do love one another; in fact, I am not at all sure at all that all this is going to come to an end. For certain, nothingness--en tant que individual consciousness, and there is the true nothingness--is altogether probable, and anything else highly improbable. But have we not continually experienced, since 1914 and even more since 1933 and with ever greater frequency in recent weeks, the most utterly improbable, the most monstrously fantastic things? Has not what was formerly completely unimaginable to us become commonplace and a matter of course? If I have lived through the persecutions in Dresden, if I have lived through February 13 and these weeks as a refugee--why should I not just as well live (or rather: die) to find the two of us somewhere, Eva and I, with angel wings or in some other droll form? It's not only the word "impossible" that has gone out of circulation, "unimaginable" also has no validity anymore. ~ Victor Klemperer

The sparks winked, bright blue and brilliant white, the gentle ripples of the canal becoming by turns rich purple, pale pearl, and inky black under the not-yet-morning sky. The water was suffused with a final luminescence before his blue sparks drowned. Magnus slid his fingers gently through Alec's wild, soft hair, and felt Alec's head turn toward him a little in half sleep. He heard Malcolm singing and remembered again his words from long ago.
I do not ever want another love. ~ Cassandra Clare

You're stifling me brother! Can I not have a moment to myself? I swear it wouldn't surprise me to find you sitting atop me one day as I do my morning business in the privy, like some great mother hen!" Elf ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

What if you wake up hung-over the following morning, not dead, but realizing that you had killed somebody? Even worse, what if you wake up in the morning realizing you destroyed the things you loved most in your life? When she regained consciousness in the hospital scared and alone, Kate realized the nightmare was a reality… her parents were dead… her soul-mate was in prison… her life would never be the same.

Through the eyes of many, Troy Trindle had it all… he was good-looking, popular, captain of the football team and dating the head cheerleader. What he lacked were the basic necessities; food, shelter and a family.

Kate and Troy's worlds collide when she moves to Alabama to resume training for a spot on the Olympic Gymnastics Team. ~ Wendi Farquharson Finn

There are only two ways to influence human behavior: you can manipulate it or you can inspire it.

Very few people or companies can clearly articulate WHY they do WHAT they do. By WHY I mean your purpose, cause or belief - WHY does your company exist? WHY do you get out of bed every morning? And WHY should anyone care?

People don't buy WHAT you do, they buy WHY you do it.

We are drawn to leaders and organizations that are good at communicating what they believe. Their ability to make us feel like we belong, to make us feel special, safe and not alone is part of what gives them the ability to inspire us.

For values or guiding principles to be truly effective they have to be verbs. It's not "integrity," it's "always do the right thing." It's not "innovation," it's "look at the problem from a different angle." Articulating our values as verbs gives us a clear idea - we have a clear idea of how to act in any situation.

Happy employees ensure happy customers. And happy customers ensure happy shareholders - in that order.

Leading is not the same as being the leader. Being the leader means you hold the highest rank, either by earning it, good fortune or navigating internal politics. Leading, however, means that others willingly follow you - not because they have to, not because they are paid to, but because they want to.

You don't hire for skills, you hire for attitude. You can always teach skills.

Simon Sinek

I at this writing am an old man, only three years short of my three score and ten. And they tell me that Wycliffe's bones have been dug up and burned and cast into the river that leads to the sea. The Church--she thinks--has had her revenge.
But, as I hear it, Wycliffe's writings had already touched one man in Bohemia, John Huss, whom the Church burned several years ago. And though both Wycliffe and Huss be dead, There are rumors of unrest in that small country, unrest caused by those who seek true religion.
In England, King Henry rules hand in glove with the Pope, but not forever, I think.
We are still here--the Lollards, I mean. Did you guess it? Yes, I have become a "poor priest." And I will tell you this: the writings of Wycliffe have been driven out of Oxford, but they can be found in every other nook in England. Indeed, many a time I have talked with an Oxford scholar on the road and have seen God open his heart to the truth.
This is what Saint Paul meant when he spoke of Christians as being pressed but never pinned. The Church rages, but the truth goes on. Many a stout English yeoman embraces it in these days and leads his family in true godly worship.
John Wycliffe was our morning star. When all was darkest and England lay asleep in the deadly arms of the papacy, God sent him to us. The Scripture has come to England. What will it hold back? Soon--though perhaps not in my lifetime-- the dawn will break, and there will be a new day in Engla ~ Andy Thomson

Maybe you're sleeping and I suppose I could just say this in the morning, but now I can't sleep and I'm just lying here so I might as well get it over with, and well ... I'm sorry about this afternoon, J.D. The first spill honestly was an accident, but the second ... okay, that was completely uncalled for. I'm, um, happy to pay for the dry cleaning. And, well ... I guess that's it. Although you really might want to rethink leaving your jacket on your chair. I'm just saying. Okay, then. That's what they make hangers for. Good. Fine. Good-bye.
J.D. heard the beep, signaling the end of the message, and he hung up the phone. He thought about what Payton had said - not so much her apology, which was question-ably mediocre at best - but something else.
She thought about him while lying in bed.
Interesting.
Later that night, having been asleep for a few hours, J.D. shot up in bed
He suddenly remembered - her shoe.
Oops. ~ Julie James

There was at least one morning I was certain, though only for a few hours, that everything that could ever really happen to me had already happened to me...I try not to be so certain anymore. ~ Catherine Lacey

But it was not in Mr. Gruber's nature to look for reasons. That was why he was an ideal secretary. He had been given much fancier assignments in the past. Find out by six in the evening whether Hubermann played any Tschaikovsky after the first intermission of his concert in Brussels last year. Produce a narwhal tusk at least five feet long by eight o'clock Thursday morning. Buy, in your own name, the Domino Motion Picture Theater in Zurich. On Wednesday afternoon between five and six in the Café Meteor in Budapest, slap the face of a character known as Ervin Kugyec. A good secretary does not look for reasons but gets results. ~ Lajos Zilahy

If something happened where I couldn't write music anymore, it would kill me. It's not just a job. It's not just a hobby. It's why I get up in the morning. ~ Hans Zimmer

And then as the little plane climbed higher and Olive saw spread out below them fields of bright and tender green in this morning sun, farther out the coastline, the ocean shiny and almost flat, tiny white wakes behind a few lobster boats
then Olive felt something she had not expected to feel again: a sudden surging greediness for life. She leaned forward, peering out the window: sweet pale clouds, the sky as blue as your hat, the new green of the fields, the broad expanse of water
seen from up here it all appeared wondrous, amazing. She remembered what hope was, and this was it. That inner churning that moves you forward, plows you through life the way the boats below plowed the shiny water, the way the plane was plowing forward to a place new, and where she was needed. ~ Elizabeth Strout

I know you think I've behaved like a cad, so I'm coming clean. I love you, Tess. I have for a long time. I ache for you. Every morning I wake up, wishing you were in my arms. Back when Cassie was at her mom's, I was relieved to be thinking about you and not her so much anymore, until I realized it meant that I was in love with you. I fell for you that first morning, when I saw you coming out of the garage with Dave. I couldn't tell you the other day, but I wanted you to know." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Maybe I have been protecting myself, but mostly, I wanted to protect you. ~ Lilly Christine

For once, Watson didn't look the worse for wear. He never fared well on planes across the Atlantic, sleeping fitfully or not at all, but this morning his hair was so extravagantly tousled, I knew he'd spent the whole flight unconscious. Though the red lines near his temple (striated; elastic?) flummoxed me until -
"You had on a sleeping mask," I said, delighted beyond all sense. "Tell me, was it one of those with the eyelashes printed on it? Was it silk? Was it your mother's, or -?"
He pulled it from his pocket and tossed it to me; I caught it one-handed. Black silk, sans eyelashes. "You're a jerk," he said, laughing. "I bought it in the terminal."
"Why would I be a jerk? I'm only asking about your beauty sleep. ~ Brittany Cavallaro

And then, one Saturday morning, I came down to breakfast, and it all came to a head when she flat-out told me that I wasn't going to training.
Straw met camel's back. Breaking commenced.
"You have no right to tell me - "
"You do not want to finish that sentence, missy. You want to sit down, close your mouth, and eat."
"How am I supposed to eat with my mouth closed?"
"Bryn, that's enough. ~ Jennifer Lynn Barnes

When the farmer arises in the morning unreconciled to get out of bed, he feels no anxiety that he has wasted time through his sleep; au contraire, he is confident that the seed has continued to grow during the night. So, too, the spiritual woman does not fret and flap over opportunities missed, does not hammer herself for not working hard enough, and does not have a panic attack wondering whether she has received grace in vain. She lives in quiet confidence that God is working in her by day and by night. Like the farmer, she is not totally passive or presumptuous. The woman knows that she has her full measure of work to do, but she realizes that the outcome rests with God and that the decisive factor is unearned grace. Thus, she works as if everything depends on God and prays as if everything depends on her. ~ Brennan Manning

I go to the window of my top floor hotel room and gaze out, not at the glittering city, but at the stars fully awake in the early morning sky. And I see her, Izabel, Sarai, in every single one of them. And this is how I know, that because of her, because I see her in everything, I am not only a monster, but a man. ~ J.A. Redmerski

Don't cry Meg. It's not that bad."

"It's not that bad? Ha! I'm thirty years old, with two black eyes, a swollen nose, a big, honking, yellow knot on my forehead, and the haircut from hell. As if that isn't enough, I had a transvestite in my bed this morning, my husband is a lying, cheating, cradle robbing, bastard, who at some point slept with my best friend."

Jack scooted over to the middle of the seat, and stopped listening to his head and wrapped his arms around her. Big mistake! From inside, four faces were pressed to the window.

"My last orgasm-with a partner- was…hell I can't remember when! I frequently knock myself out for entertainment purposes, I have little boobs, big feet, squishy panties, nosy neighbors and demon possessed fish. God hates me!"

Jack held her tighter.

"I have frequent flyer miles at the hospital. I fed my husband marijuana Ex-lax brownies and shoved a marble up his butt."

Jack pulled away to look at her and she was serious. And crying. Big, sad, alligator tears that made his heart swell. "My mother is a holy rolling, Catholic Dr. Ruth, complete with condoms and Rosary beads. I write about relationships and sex, both of which I suck at and I hired a Private Investigator to pimp me out."

Jack burst out laughing and she pushed him away and swatted his shoulder.

"And now you're laughing at me. Could things get any worse? ~ Amy Johnson

The stars are brilliant at this time of night
and I wander these streets like a ritual I don't dare to break
for darling, the times are quite glorious.

I left him by the water's edge,
still waving long after the ship was gone
and if someone would have screamed my name I wouldn't have heard for I've said goodbye so many times in my short life that farewells are a muscular task and I've taught them well.
There's a place by the side of the railway near the lake where I grew up and I used to go there to burry things and start anew.
I used to go there to say goodbye.
I was young and did not know many people but I had hidden things inside that I never dared to show and in silence I tried to kill them,
one way or the other,
leaving sin on my body
scrubbing tears off with salt
and I built my rituals in farewells.
Endings I still cling to.

So I go to the ocean to say goodbye.

He left that morning, the last words still echoing in my head
and though he said he'd come back one day I know a broken promise from a right one
for I have used them myself and there is no coming back.
Minds like ours are can't be tamed and the price for freedom is the price we pay.

I turned away from the ocean
as not to fall for its plea
for it used to seduce and consume me
and there was this one night
a few years back and I was not yet accustomed to farewells
~ Charlotte Eriksson

Harry had felt the gnawing ache for alcohol from the moment he woke up that morning. First as an instinctive physical craving, then as a panic-stricken fear because he had put a distance between himself and his medicine by not taking his hip flask or any money with him to work. Now the ache was entering a new phase in which it was both a wholly physical pain and a feeling of blank terror that he would be torn to pieces. The enemy below was pulling and tugging at the chains, the dogs were snarling up at him from the pit, somewhere in his stomach beneath his heart. God, how he hated them. He hated them as much as they hated him. ~ Jo Nesbo

Girls interested in modeling need to realize that its hard work. You can go to a shoot in the morning and not even start shooting until 10pm - and still be there at 5am the next day. Then if you still haven't got the shot, you'll have to go back the next day and start again! ~ Kate Moss

Will. For a moment her heart hesitated. She remembered when Will had died, her agony, the long nights alone, reaching across the bed every morning when she woke up, for years expecting to find him there, and only slowly growing accustomed to the fact that side of the bed would always be empty. The moments when she had found something funny and turned to share the joke with him, only to be shocked anew that he was not there. The worst moments, when, sitting alone at breakfast, she had realized that she had forgotten the precise blue of his eyes or the depth of his laugh; that, like the sound of Jem's violin music, they had faded into the distance where memories are silent. ~ Cassandra Clare

We stayed all day long. We closed our eyes and paryed, which we had not doen together in a long time. The nurse came in and out of the room. Everything felt awful and I wondered why the whole world didn't seem to notice how bad things really were. I thought of how I'd gotten used to awful, how after my dad died the planets kept on spinning and I got up and ate breakfast every morning and kept going to school. Something happens and it's terrible and you think you can't live another day, but then your mother gets used to it and you get used to it and you both keep on living, and you're not sure if that getting-used-to-things is good or the way life should be. ~ Margaret McMullan

The beginning of things – when is it exactly? Astrid Smart wants to know. (Astrid Smart. Astrid
Berenski. Astrid Smart. Astrid Berenski.) 5.04 a.m. on the substandard clock radio.
Because why do people always say the day starts now? Really it starts in the middle of
the night at a fraction of a second past midnight. But it's not supposed to have begun
until the dawn, really the dark is still last night and it isn't morning till the light,
though actually it was morning as soon as it was even a fraction of a second past
twelve i.e. ~ Ali Smith

Similarly, some people have a four-lane highway for constant achievement, a striving talent we call achiever. They may not have to win, but they do feel a burning need to achieve something tangible every single day. And these people mean every single day. For them, every day - workday, weekend, vacation - starts at zero. They have to rack up some numbers by the end of the day to feel good about themselves. This burning flame may dwindle as evening comes, but the next morning, it rekindles itself, spurring its host to look for new items to cross off his list. These people are the fabled "self-starters. ~ Gallup Press

Van Eck keeps the seal in a safe?" said Jesper with a laugh. "It's almost like hewants us to take it. Kaz is better at making friends with combination locks than with people."

"You've never seen a safe like this," Wylan said. "He had it installed after the DeKappel was stolen. It has a seven-digit combination that he resets every day, and the locks are built with false tumblers to confuse safecrackers."

Kaz shrugged. "Then we go around it. I'll take expediency over finesse."

Wylan shook his head. "The safe walls are made of a unique alloy reinforced with Grisha steel."

"An explosion?" suggested Jesper.

Kaz raised a brow. "I suspect Van Eck will notice that."

"A very small explosion?"

Nina snorted. "You just want to blow something up."

"Actually…" said Wylan. He cocked his head to one side, as if he were listening to a distant song. "Come morning, there would be no hiding we'd been there, but if we can get the refugees out of the harbor before my father discovers the theft … I'm not exactly sure where I can get the materials, but it just might work.…"

"Inej," Jesper whispered.

She leaned forward, peering at Wylan. "Is that scheming face?"

"Possibly."

Wylan seemed to snap back to reality. "It is not. But … but I do think I have an idea. ~ Leigh Bardugo

When I woke up in the morning I was in bad shape. My neck was stiff and I couldn't turn it. We weren't pros, so there was no such thing as a physical therapist or masseuse to fix it. The best I could do was just rub in some Bengay and hope for the best. When we got to the Czech Republic a couple of days later, my neck still had zero mobility. In order to look to the side, I had to move my entire body. As if that weren't enough to worry about, we were competing against Rachael, who was now teamed up with the Russian guy who had beaten me as a junior. His name was Evgeni Smagin, and he wore his dark hair greased back. The guy just looked slick from head to toe.
I turned to Aneta. "This is so not good," I told her. "They are like the ultimate, ultimate couple. They're going to beat us."
Aneta looked very upset, so I guess something inside me said, "Derek, man up!" My neck was messed up and I was about to get my ass kicked by my archnemesis and my ex. It couldn't get much worse than that. ~ Derek Hough

In my lifetime I have learned, among other things, not to overcook
veal and never to forget a woman's name the morning after. On that day I
added another little ditty to my list: never blow up a dead whale with
dynamite. ~ Ute Carbone

One of our favorite examples of the value of Nothing is an incident in the life of the Japanese emperor Hirohito. Now, being emperor in one of the most frantically Confucianist countries in the world is not necessarily all that relaxing. From early morning until late at night, practically every minute of the emperor's time is filled in with meetings, audiences, tours, inspections, and who-knows-what. And through a day so tightly scheduled that it would make a stone wall seem open by comparison, the emperor must glide, like a great ship sailing in a steady breeze.

In the middle of a particularly busy day, the emperor was driven to a meeting hall for an appointment of some kind. But when he arrived, there was no one there. The emperor walked into the middle of the great hall, stood silently for a moment, then bowed to the empty space. He turned to his assistants, a large smile on his face. "We must schedule more appointments like this," he told them. "I haven't enjoyed myself so much in a long time. ~ Benjamin Hoff

How was it possible to be afraid and in love ... The two things did not go together. How was it possible to be afraid, when the two of them grew stronger together every day? And every night. Every night was different, and every morning. Together they possessed a miracle. ~ Patricia Highsmith