Insomnia is a bad dream from which you must wake up. And, when you do, you find that you are asleep.

Our fanciful dreams must give way to the will of the Lord who will shape us to dream greater dreams that will allow us to live with enhanced wisdom, skill, appreciation, and joy.

Life is is like being in a carpool, sharing the ride makes it more enjoyable and less monotonous.

Speech, tennis, music, skiing, manners, love- you try them waking and perhaps balk at the jump, and then you're over. You've caught the rhythm of them once and for all, in your sleep at night. The city, of course, can wreck it. So much insomnia. So many rhythms collide. The salesgirl, the landlord, the guests, the bystanders, sixteen varieties of social circumstance in a day. Everyone has the power to call your whole life into question here. Too many people have access to your state of mind. Some people are indifferent to dislike, even relish it. Hardly anyone I know.

Am I sleeping? Have I slept at all? This is insomnia.

I've always envied people who sleep easily. Their brains must be cleaner, the floorboards of the skull well swept, all the little monsters closed up in a steamer trunk at the foot of the bed.