One of my favorite quotes is from Thomas Dekker (which I found quoted by Dorothy Sayers) on the wonders of sleep.
"Do but consider what an excellent thing sleep is: it is so inestimable a jewel that, if a tyrant would give his crown for an hour's slumber, it cannot be bought: of so beautiful a shape is it, that though a man lie with an Empress, his heat cannot beat quiet till he leaves her embracements to be at rest with the other; yea, so greatly indebted are we to this kinsman of death, that we owe the better tributary, half of our life to him: and there is good cause why we should do so: for sleep is that golden chain that ties health and hour bodies together. Who complains of want? of wounds? of cares? of great man's oppressions? of captivity? whilst he sleepeth? Beggars in their beds take as much pleasure as kings: can we therefore surfeit on this delicate Ambrosia? Can we drink too much of that whereof to taste too little tumbles us into the churchyard, and to use it but indifferently throws us into Bedlam? No, no. look upon Endymion, the moon's minion, who slept three score and fifteen years, and was not a hair the worse for it."
~Thomas Dekker,1572-1632, Elizabethan writer and poet.
On that note, good night. I'm going to the place free of complaints of great man's oppressions, captivities, and school worries. That delicate ambrosia of dreamland.
"Do but consider what an excellent thing sleep is: it is so inestimable a jewel that, if a tyrant would give his crown for an hour's slumber, it cannot be bought: of so beautiful a shape is it, that though a man lie with an Empress, his heat cannot beat quiet till he leaves her embracements to be at rest with the other; yea, so greatly indebted are we to this kinsman of death, that we owe the better tributary, half of our life to him: and there is good cause why we should do so: for sleep is that golden chain that ties health and hour bodies together. Who complains of want? of wounds? of cares? of great man's oppressions? of captivity? whilst he sleepeth? Beggars in their beds take as much pleasure as kings: can we therefore surfeit on this delicate Ambrosia? Can we drink too much of that whereof to taste too little tumbles us into the churchyard, and to use it but indifferently throws us into Bedlam? No, no. look upon Endymion, the moon's minion, who slept three score and fifteen years, and was not a hair the worse for it."
~Thomas Dekker,1572-1632, Elizabethan writer and poet.
On that note, good night. I'm going to the place free of complaints of great man's oppressions, captivities, and school worries. That delicate ambrosia of dreamland.
October 21, 2010 at 5:48 PM
for He gives to His beloved sleep