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“I'm just an insomniac struggling for a night where I don't dream of you anymore.”
Lone Alaskan Gypsy“He was afraid of touching his own wrist. He never attempted to sleep on his left side, even in those dismal hours of the night when the insomniac longs for a third side after trying the two he has.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Pnin“You're like a dream I never want to wake up from, but I; I'm insomniac!”
Ahmed Mostafa“Evelyn was an insomniac so when they say she died in her sleep, you have to question that.”
Garrison Keillor, Pontoon“Sometimes, at the least opportune times, the past is an insomniac, alive and well.”
Courtney Cole, If You Stay“I'm not an insomniac. It's just that my mind is in the best position to catch the weight of all hovering possibilities the moment I lie down.”
Joyce Rachelle“Mario, what do you get when you cross an insomniac, an unwilling agnostic and a dyslexic?""I give.""You get someone who stays up all night torturing himself mentally over the question of whether or not there's a dog.”
David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest“Insomniacs know that there is something about the night. A darkness, an energy, a mystery that shrouds things. It hides things at the same time as it illuminates them. It is this thing that allows us to examine our thoughts in a way that we can't during the day. It is this thing that brings truth and clarity.”
Courtney Cole, Nocte“What strange and thoughtless creatures we were, back in those days. We would go up to the rooftops to smoke, Wurth and I; and there in the company of other insomniac souls we would look out at the vast expanse of lights and glamour. We watched the towers as they climbed higher, and higher, as humanity reached for the skies.”
Yudhanjaya Wijeratne, Numbercaste“The sound is gone. There's nothing left but the insomniac throbbing of crickets. Crickets in the garden, the courtyard, the back courtyard. Close, domestic, identifiable. And those out in the country. Between all of them they raise, little by little, a wall that will keep out the thing that lies waiting for the tiniest crack of silence to steal through. The thing that is feared by all those who are sleepless, those who walk through the night, those who are lonely, children. That thing. The voice of the dead. ”
Rosario Castellanos, The Book of Lamentations