SLEEPING in Classic Quotes
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Quotes from Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
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1 So if you like, I'll read you to sleep nights.
2 He heard Mildred shake the sleeping tablets into her hand.
3 "I don't know anything anymore," he said, and let a sleep lozenge dissolve on his tongue.
4 The three empty walls of the room were like the pale brows of sleeping giants now, empty of dreams.
5 Later, going to sleep, he would feel the fiery smile still gripped by his face muscles, in the dark.
6 And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping its life away.
7 He hid the books in the kitchen and moved from the house again to the alley and looked back and the house was still dark and quiet, sleeping.
8 The small crystal bottle of sleeping tablets which earlier today had been filled with thirty capsules and which now lay uncapped and empty in the light of the tiny flare.
9 The Mechanical Hound slept but did not sleep, lived but did not live in its gently humming, gently vibrating, softly illuminated kennel back in a dark corner of the firehouse.
10 One, two, three, four, five, Clarisse, Mildred, uncle, fire, sleeping tablets, men, disposable tissue, coattails, blow, wad, flush, Clarisse, Mildred, uncle, fire, tablets, tissues, blow, wad, flush.
11 The other men lay awhile, on the dawn edge of sleep, not yet ready to rise up and begin the day's obligations, its fires and foods, its thousand details of putting foot after foot and hand after hand.
12 It was like a great bee come home from some field where the honey is full of poison wildness, of insanity and nightmare, its body crammed with that over-rich nectar and now it was sleeping the evil out of itself.
13 In the morning he would not have needed sleep, for all the warm odors and sights of a complete country night would have rested and slept him while his eyes were wide and his mouth, when he thought to test it, was half a smile.
14 Now, the dry smell of hay, the motion of the waters, made him think of sleeping in fresh hay in a lonely barn away from the loud highways, behind a quiet farmhouse, and under an ancient windmill that whirred like the sound of the passing years overhead.