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I feel like there is always something trying to pull us back into sleep, that there is this sort of seductive quality in all the hedonistic pleasures that pull on us.

Jesting and levity accustom a man to lewdness.

Eroticism is assenting to life even in death.

A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow.

When you don't sleep, you start to hallucinate, and that's not good.

It's interesting how sleepwalking in a certain way becomes an accumulation of your outside stimuli that's actually there and what's happening in your brain.

I often think that a slightly exposed shoulder emerging from a long satin nightgown packs more sex than two naked bodies in bed.

Most people imagine music playing in their heads, but some hallucinate music; some cannot sleep because of the soundtrack in their mind.

The only thing that comes to a sleeping man is dreams.

But the mind travels far - and mysteriously - in sleep.