Sleeping In Your Boyfriends Shirt Quotes

In our society, we often tend to ignore what our bodies are telling us and instead are encouraged to medicate the symptoms with sleeping pills, stool softeners, a few beers, and a burrito. The problem with this approach is that whatever your body is trying to tell you gets lost beneath your attempts to cover it up. ~ Melissa Grabau

Bed is the only place for protracted telephoning. It is also execellently suited to reading, sleeping and listening to canaries. It is not a good place for sex: sex should take place in armchairs, or in bathrooms, or on lawns which have been brushed but not too recently mown, or on sandy beaches if you happen to have been circumcised. If you are too tired to have intercourse except in bed you are probably too tired anyway and should be husbanding your strength. ~ Kyril Bonfiglioli

Will you stop comparing me to your grandparents? Or I'm going to think there's something peculiar in your continued interest in sleeping with me ~ Alexis Hall

I love you, i love your smile your snarl your grin, your face when your sleeping.I love your hair streaming behind you as we fly, with the sunlight making it shine, if it doesn't have too much mud or blood in it, I love seeing your wings spreading out, white and brown and tan and speckled, and the tiny downy feathers right at the top of your shoulders. I love your eyes, whether they're cold or calculating or suspicious or laughing or warm, like when you look at me. ~ James Patterson

To enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself. If you flatter yourself that you are all over comfortable, and have been so a long time, then you cannot be said to be comfortable any more. For this reason a sleeping apartment should never be furnished with a fire, which is one of the luxurious discomforts of the rich. For the height of this sort of deliciousness is to have nothing but the blanket between you and your snugness and the cold of the outer air. Then there you lie like the one warm spark in the heart of an arctic crystal. ~ Herman Melville

To experience the unique sense of elation that you have when your child is sleeping on your chest in an incomparable emotion. ~ John Rhys-Davies

your business," I say. "And you're not sleeping in ~ Kaui Hart Hemmings

There are many different things in this world to hide, but a secret is not one of them. It is difficult to hide an airplane, for instance, because you generally need to find a deep hole or an enormous haystack, and sneak the airplane inside in the middle of the night, but it is easy to hide a secret about an airplane, because you can merely write it on a tiny piece of paper and tape it to the bottom of your mattress any time you are at home. It is difficult to hide a symphony orchestra, because you usually need to rent a soundproof room and borrow as many sleeping bags as you can find, but it is easy to hide a secret about a symphony orchestra, because you can merely whisper it into the ear of a trustworthy friend or music critic. And it is difficult to hind yourself, because you sometimes need to stuff yourself into the trunk of an automobile, or concoct a disguise out of whatever you can find, but it is easy to hide a secret about yourself because you can merely type it into a book and hope it falls into the right hands. My dear sister, if you are reading things I am still alive, and heading north to try and find you. ~ Lemony Snicket

Anyone who thinks Ryanair flights are some sort of bastion of sanctity where you can contemplate your navel is wrong. We already bombard you with as many in-flight announcements and trolleys as we can. Anyone who looks like sleeping, we wake them up to sell them things. ~ Michael O'Leary

I do not know what I am saying, puppy. Change frightens me. My anxiety and depression… these things are easier to control when I feel safe and secure. But I like having you around. I hope you decide to move in with us, even though I am crazy."
Hans laughed and gave him an affectionate smile. "I don't think your therapist would like you talking like that."
"No. Thomas does not like it either."
"I don't think I'm going anywhere," Hans said. "We can talk about it tomorrow."
"Good." Boris smiled, let go of his hand, and stood. "Oh, yes. Thomas tells me he kisses you now. This is good. I have no problem with it, so do not feel you have to make sure I am out of the room or anything stupid like that."
"You can kiss me too, if you want."
"I was hoping you would say that," Boris said, grinning. "I do want. But I have been sleeping all day, and I have really bad breath. May I kiss you tomorrow?"
"You may." Hans had already figured out Boris had bad breath. He might have been willing to overlook it, but considering how tentative things were between them, it was probably better to wait.
"I am looking forward to it. Goodnight, puppy." Boris slipped from the room but stopped halfway out the door.
Hans heard Thomas's voice, though it was too quiet for him to make out what he was saying. Boris said something in response, and this time Hans could tell it was in Russian. ~ Jamie Fessenden

Over the next eight years, almost without noticing, I arrived at a quiet revelation. You could make a home by yourself. You could fill that home with friends and friendly strangers without someone sleeping next to you. You could tend your garden and cook your meals and find predictable pleasure in your own autonomy. ~ Armistead Maupin

Tom O' Bedlam among the Sunflowers"

To have gold in your back yard and not know it. . .
I woke this morning before your dream had shredded
And found a curious thing: flowers made of gold,

Six-sided - more than that - broken on flagstones,
Petals the color of a wedding band.
You are sleeping. The morning comes up gold.

Perhaps I made those flowers in my head,
For I have counted snowflakes in July
Blowing across my eyes like bits of calcium,

And I have stepped into your dream at night,
A stranger there, my body steeped in moonlight.
I watched you tremble, washed in all that silver.

Love, the stars have fallen into the garden
And turned to frost. They have opened like a hand.
It is the color that breaks out of the bedsheets.

This morning the garden is littered with dry petals
As yellow as the page of an old book.
I step among them. They are brittle as bone china. ~ Thomas James

You were firing questions at me today, trying to get inside my head.
You asked if I believed in God.
I told you of course I do- I've always had a strong sense of self.
Your house is quiet now, you're sleeping upstairs and I'm alone with this blasted, idiotic book that purports to tally the sum of my life, and fact is, maybe I do.
But maybe, ka-lyrra, your God doesn't believe in me.
From The (Greatly Revised) Black Edition Of The O'Callaghan Book of the Sin Siriche Du ~ Karen Marie Moning

Good morning."
"Fuck you," she growled, still confused.
"I wore you out, huh?"
Raven's angry panicked eyes narrowing, she glared at me. "If anyone was worn out, it was you. I'm surprised I didn't break your dick."
"Who said you didn't?" I said, causing her to smirk. "I might need a little cast for it."
Raven finally smiled for real. "It wouldn't be the first time."
"We could test it out," I said, wiggling my eyebrows.
"I need to leave."
"It's barely six."
"Sleeping over is a mistake."
"True," I said, tossing aside the sheets to show how a little cast wasn't in my future. "Of course, I don't know if walking will be an option after I'm done with you. Better for you to go while you can still move. ~ Bijou Hunter

I looked about me. Luminous points glowed in the darkness. Cigarettes punctuated the humble meditations of worn old clerks. I heard them talking to one another in murmurs and whispers. They talked about illness, money, shabby domestic cares. And suddenly I had a vision of the face of destiny. Old bureaucrat, my comrade, it is not you who are to blame. No one ever helped you to escape. You, like a termite, built your peace by blocking up with cement every chink and cranny through which the light might pierce. You rolled yourself up into a ball in your genteel security, in routine, in the stifling conventions of provincial life, raising a modest rampart against the winds and the tides and the stars. You have chosen not to be perturbed by great problems, having trouble enough to forget your own fate as a man. You are not the dweller upon an errant planet and do not ask yourself questions to which there are no answers. Nobody grasped you by the shoulder while there was still time. Now the clay of which you were shaped has dried and hardened, and naught in you will ever awaken the sleeping musician, the poet, the astronomer that possibly inhabited you in the beginning. ~ Antoine De Saint Exupery

I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever. Your leg, my leg, your arm, my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again. ~ Charles Bukowski

Do you know how, sometimes, during a commercial break in your favorite television shows, your best friend calls and wants to talk about one of her boyfriends, and when you try to hang up, she starts crying and you try to cheer her up and end up missing about half o the episode? And so when you go to work the next day you have to get the guy who sits next to you to explain what happened? That's the good thing about a book. You can mark your place in a book. But this isn't really a book. It's a television show. ~ Kelly Link

It was on the table when I got here," Matt said in his defense.
Josh eyed the open [Cosmo] magazine. "You don't already know how to satisfy your boyfriends in bed?"
Matt ignored this. "Did either of you know there's ninety-nine ways to give a blow job? That's ninety-nine nights of blow jobs."
"Look at you with the math skills," Josh said.
Matt flipped him off while Ty flipped the page. "'How to Give Your Hoo-Ha a Spa Day.' Huh," he said. "I didn't know a woman's hoo-ha needed a spa day. ~ Jill Shalvis

Last night felt good." He chuckled. "Not watching you jerk off, though that was fucking hot, but before that, when you were sleeping between me and Boris. I liked that."
A knot formed in Hans's chest, making it difficult to speak.
"So did Boris," Thomas insisted. "I know he did. Then he started worrying about you getting between me and him. He did what he did because he needed to prove I still belonged to him."
"I already fucking know that!" Hans snapped. He lowered his voice. "I know you have your special things I can't be a part of, like speaking to each other in Russian, and kissing and hugging, and all the things I wish I could do with you…." He stopped himself. He was overstepping again. "I shouldn't have said that. I've only known you guys for like two months. But I like being here. I'm lucky you haven't fired me for what I did last night, considering how much it upset Boris."
He tried to turn pull away, embarrassed, but Thomas wouldn't let go. "Boris and I have things that tie us together - things that do make me his - but despite all that, I think we both want to build something with you too."
Hans huffed out a breath. "I'm not sure how I feel about him now."
"Like I said, there will be bad days. He can't help it, other than to keep taking his meds and going to therapy. He's so much better than he was, when I met him in Russia. You have no idea!"
Hans settled into the embrace, reveling in the feel of Thomas's warm, soft skin. ~ Jamie Fessenden

Paralytic

It happens. Will it go on? ----
My mind a rock,
No fingers to grip, no tongue,
My god the iron lung

That loves me, pumps
My two
Dust bags in and out,
Will not

Let me relapse
While the day outside glides by like ticker tape.
The night brings violets,
Tapestries of eyes,

Lights,
The soft anonymous
Talkers: 'You all right?'
The starched, inaccessible breast.

Dead egg, I lie
Whole
On a whole world I cannot touch,
At the white, tight

Drum of my sleeping couch
Photographs visit me ----
My wife, dead and flat, in 1920 furs,
Mouth full of pearls,

Two girls
As flat as she, who whisper 'We're your daughters.'
The still waters
Wrap my lips,

Eyes, nose and ears,
A clear
Cellophane I cannot crack.
On my bare back

I smile, a buddha, all
Wants, desire
Falling from me like rings
Hugging their lights.

The claw
Of the magnolia,
Drunk on its own scents,
Asks nothing of life. ~ Sylvia Plath

I had taken a partner once before - but, damnation, no matter how many times you get your fingers burned, you have to trust people. Otherwise you are a hermit in a cave, sleeping with one eye
open. ~ Robert A. Heinlein

He stared back at me so blatantly I wanted to smack him. "I know. Like I said, that… was never my intention. It was an accident." My mouth dropped open. "Did you slip and fall on my bed? Because I don't understand how you've accidentally ended up there." Red stained the tips of his cheeks. "I check the outside, and then I check the inside just to be sure. Hybrids can get into your house, Katy, as you already know. So could Daedalus if they wanted." What would he have done if Daemon had been there? Then it struck me and I felt sick all over again. "How long do you watch at night?" He shrugged. "A couple of hours." So he'd have known if Daemon had come over most of the time, and the rest was just sheer dumb luck. Part of me wished he'd tried it just once when Daemon was there. He wouldn't be walking right for months. There was a good chance he may leave this stairwell with a limp. Blake seemed to sense where my mind went. "After I checked inside your house, I… I don't know what happened. You have bad dreams." I wondered why. I had perverts sleeping in the bed with me. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Ned?' he says, after a while. 'Oi, Ned?'
'What?'
'If someone says to you that the guy they're going out with doesn't have to prove how smart he is, what's your response?'
'That he's dumb.'
'And if he has a sixpack?'
'Dumb jock.'
'Not too intense.'
'Dumb jock with no personality.'
'And they see eye to eye?'
Ned pauses. 'With the spitfire from Dili?'
'Same,' Tom corrects.
Ned holds up a hand to where Tara would reach him in height.
'Dumb jock with no personality and short-man syndrome.'
'Thanks, Ned.'
'Anytime. ~ Melina Marchetta

Raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses and sleeping with roaches and taking best guesses and shade of the sheets and before all the stains and a few more of your least favorite things... ~ Addi Booth

He found Whitebread curled up in the chair like a cat, her hand touching Blake's. She was sleeping, and Beckett had almost turned tail to leave her in peace when Blake's eyes snapped open.
"The fuck!?" Beckett ran to Blake's side as his brother's face registered the room in panic.
Whitebread popped up and was almost nose-to-nose with Blake immediately. Beckett leaned around her and held his brother's flailing arms.
Livia spoke in a soft, urgent voice. "Blake? They have you on a ventilator; this thing in your mouth needs to be removed by the doctor. Just calm down. Look, I'm here. I'm here. See? It's okay. Just try to be calm."
Whitebread stroked Blake's cheek. ~ Debra Anastasia

He lifted my luggage off the floor. "You're not sleeping on the couch or the recliner. You're sleeping in my bed."
"Which is more unsanitary than the couch, I'm sure."
"There's never been anyone in my bed but me."
I rolled my eyes. "Give me a break!"
"I'm absolutely serious. I bag 'em on the couch. I don't let them in my room."
"Then why am I allowed in your bed?"
One corner of his mouth pulled up into an impish grin. "Are you planning on having sex with me tonight?"
"No!"
"That's why. Now get your cranky ass up, take your hot shower, and then we can study some Bio. ~ Jamie McGuire

Derek's breath touched Sara's throat in unsteady urges. "Sometimes," he whispered, "I'm so close to you ... and I'm still not close enough. I want to share your breath ... every beat of your heart."
He cradled her head in both his hands, his mouth hot on her neck. "Sometimes," he murmured, "I want to punish you a little."
"Why?"
"For making me want you until I ache with it. For the way I wake at night just to watch you sleeping." His face was intense and passionate above her, his green eyes sharp in their brightness. "I want you more each time I'm with you. It's a fever that never leaves me. I can't be alone without wondering where you are, when I can have you again." His lips possessed hers in a kiss that was both savage and tender, and she opened to him eagerly. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Yes. I trusted Amanda," Pierce says, leaning back again in his chair. "And yet you cheated on her with your neighbour," Moen breaks in. He fixes a hard look on her. He finds her annoying, picking away at him. "That was a moment of stupidity. Becky came on to me. I shouldn't have done it. Just because I did something wrong, it doesn't mean my wife did." "Doesn't it?" Moen asks, arching an eyebrow. He doesn't like her. He doesn't like either one of them. He considers getting up and leaving. He knows he's within his rights to do so - he's here voluntarily. Moen continues to goad him. "You haven't asked who was having an affair with your wife." "Maybe because I don't want to know," Robert says bluntly. "Or maybe it's because you know already?" Webb suggests. Robert gives the detective a hostile look. "Why would you say that?" "We think she was sleeping with your neighbour, Larry Harris." He is suddenly furious, but tries to tamp down his anger. "I didn't know." "Sure, you didn't," Webb says pleasantly. "That's not why you slept with Becky Harris, is it, to get back at your wife's lover? You wouldn't do that, would you? Just like you wouldn't kill your wife. ~ Shari Lapena

He was watching me, and he chuckled.
"Do you know how a man tames a wolf?" he asked me.
"No," I said.
"You get some clothing that you've been wearing for a while, and you toss it in with her. In the cage or the cavern where she sleeps. That first one, she rips up, shreds it to nothing. The second one, she just mouths it a bit, gets a taste. Inhales, like you're doing there. The third but of clothing, she starts dragging it around, loving on it, sleeping with it. And then you've got her under your spell. She's got the scent of you, wants to keep it around. She'll follow you everywhere."
"Are you calling me a wolf?" I asked.
"Are you calling me a man?" he said. ~ Delilah S. Dawson

We spoke of those magic summer nights, looking out over the gulf of Castellammare, when the stars are mirrored in the sleeping sea, and how, lying on your back among the mastic trees, your spirit is lost in the whirling heavens, while the body braces itself, fearing the approach of demons. ~ Giuseppe Tomasi Di Lampedusa

I, Corona Speaking (The Sonnet)

Nature has been crying,
Yet you paid no heed.
Glaciers have been frying,
Yet you kept sleeping in greed.
Forests kept on burning,
Yet your eyes shed no tear.
Hurricanes kept on brewing,
Yet your luxuries didn't disappear.
Hence my arrival, not to punish you,
But only to give a wake up call.
I haven't come to lock you up,
But only to expose your downfall.
Now you know the horrors you committed,
I plea o wise ones live life illuminated. ~ Abhijit Naskar

You see, somewhere deep within the universe is a cosmic heart that pours knowledge to those with questions. And to communicate with it, you simply have to tap into your own heart. Yet there is a catch. You cannot be sleeping. You have to be wide awake. And your heart cannot be heavy. It must be as light as a feather. And your questions cannot carry any shades of darkness; they must be as childlike as a curious and receptive student of Truth. And the answers, can be interpreted in many different ways -- depending on how much truth you have in you. ~ Suzy Kassem