My mother used to say not sleeping was the sign of a guilty mind. It could have been. There was a lot in my mind to feel guilty about. When you__e drunk and trying to sleep, your thoughts are visited by the ghosts of those deeds whose heat still glows hottest in your personal darkness. Our actions burn much longer than the moments in which they occur. And drunks like me, we hide from the glow of the embers by fueling other fires and hiding within the flames.
Hullo!_ said Merry. __o that__ what is bothering you? Now, Pippin my lad, don__ forget Gildor__ saying__he one Sam used to quote: Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger._ __ut our whole life for months has been one long meddling in the affairs of Wizards,_ said Pippin. __ should like a bit of information as well as danger. I should like a look at that ball._ __o to sleep!_ said Merry. __ou__l get information enough, sooner or later. My dear Pippin, no Took ever beat a Brandybuck for inquisitiveness; but is it this time, I ask you?_ __ll right! What__ the harm in my telling you what I should like: a look at that stone? I know I can__ have it, with old Gandalf sitting on it, like a hen on an egg. But it doesn__ help much to get no more from you than a you-can__-have-it-so-go-to-sleep!_ __ell, what else could I say?_ said Merry. ____ sorry, Pippin, but you really must wait till the morning. I__l be as curious as you like after breakfast, and I__l help you in any way I can at wizard-wheedling. But I can__ keep awake any longer. If I yawn any more, I shall split at the ears. Good night!
The Two Towers
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Hullo!_ said Merry. __o that__ what is bothering you? Now, Pippin my lad, don__ forget Gildor__ saying__he one Sam used to quote: Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger._ __ut our whole life for months has been one long meddling in the affairs of Wizards,_ said Pippin. __ should like a bit of information as well as danger. I should like a look at that ball._ __o to sleep!_ said Merry. __ou__l get information enough, sooner or later. My dear Pippin, no Took ever beat a Brandybuck for inquisitiveness; but is it this time, I ask you?_ __ll right! What__ the harm in my telling you what I should like: a look at that stone? I know I can__ have it, with old Gandalf sitting on it, like a hen on an egg. But it doesn__ help much to get no more from you than a you-can__-have-it-so-go-to-sleep!_ __ell, what else could I say?_ said Merry. ____ sorry, Pippin, but you really must wait till the morning. I__l be as curious as you like after breakfast, and I__l help you in any way I can at wizard-wheedling. But I can__ keep awake any longer. If I yawn any more, I shall split at the ears. Good night!
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We do not know what it's like to be a bat, we do not know what it's like to be in coma. we can't even say that we know what it's like to be sleeping. We can say what it's like to be restored to consciousness after sleeping. If there are no dreams during our sleep then the sleeping life is an empty life. We might say of such a life that it's not like being anything. We protect that life on the assumption that come the morning its normal functions will be restored. Suppose it was the case however that such functions were only restored every two days... every eight days... twice a year but only briefly. I assume the point is clear. Actions that end life are irretrievable. If we are mistaken at that point there is no going back.
It__ perfectly normal, perfectly natural to live in sleep. But to wake up is a revolution in consciousness. To wake up is to break free of nature. To wake up is to rise and unite with the spirit, and nature doesn__ do that for us.
I swoon into a standing eight count. Goddamn, I actually feel my consciousness want to detach and hide like a turtle retreating into a hopelessly soft shell that won't save anyone.
She had always lived her best life in dreams. She knew no greater pleasure than that moment of passage into the other place, when her limbs grew warm and heavy and the sparkling darkness behind her lids became ordered and doors opened; when conscious thought grew owl's wings and talons and became other than conscious.