“What the hell time is it?" muttered the old man. He was always an aggressive sleeper. Sleep was one of the things he did best, and he loved it. Some look upon sleep as an unfortunate necessary interruption of life; but there are others who hold that sleep is life, or at least one of the more fulfilling aspects of it, like eating or sex. Any time my old man's sleep was interrupted, he became truly dangerous.”

“Up the road, in his shack, the old man was sleeping again. He was still sleeping on his face and the boy was sitting by him watching him. The old man was dreaming about the lions.”

“What is he doing?" she finally whispered.Bill appeared behind her and flitted around her shoulders. "Looks like he's sleeping.""But why? I didn't even know angels need to sleep-""Need isn't the right word. They can sleep if they feel like it.Daniel always sleeps for days after you die." Bill tossed his head,seeming to recall something unpleasant. "Okay,not always. Most of the time.Must be pretty taxing,to lose the one thing you love. Can you blame him?""S-sort of," Luce stammered. "I'm the one who bursts into flames.""And he's the one who's left alone. The age-old question.Which is worse?”

“A man who reads at all, reads just as he eats, sleeps, and takes exercise,because he likes it; and that is probably the best reason that canbe given for the practice.”

“He taught them that the purpose of a man is to make his life holy--every aspect of his life: eating, drinking praying, sleeping. God is everywhere, he told them, and if it seems at times that He is hidden from us, it is only because we have not yet learned to seek Him correctly.”

“Who sleeps at night? No one is sleeping.
In the cradle a child is screaming.
An old man sits over his death, and anyone
young enough talks to his love, breathes
into her lips, looks into her eyes.”