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  • ... every woman over fifty should stay in bed until noon.

  • Sleeping in a bed — it is, apparently, of immense importance. Against those who sleep, from choice or necessity, elsewhere society feels righteously hostile. It is not done. It is disorderly, anarchical.

  • Only one hour in the normal day is more pleasurable than the hour spent in bed with a book before going to sleep, and that is the hour spent in bed with a book after being called in the morning.

    • Rose Macaulay,
    • "Problems of a Reader's Life," A Casual Commentary ()
  • ... the greatest luxury I know is sitting up reading in bed.

  • The bed is our ultimate security blanket.

  • There are not enough poems in praise of bed ...

  • I suppose there is hardly any one in the civilized world — particularly of those who do just a little more every day than they really have strength to perform — who has not at some time regarded bed as a refuge.

  • It is in bed that we learn to bear the inevitable. We are learning this all the time while we lie with our face turned to the wall thinking we are doing nothing.

  • One cannot see callers, answer the telephone, go to luncheons or dinners, visit the dentist or shoemaker, address charitable organizations in or from a bed; therefore a bed, in my experience, is simply bristling with ideas.

  • A bed, a nice fresh bed, with smoothly drawn sheets and a hot-water bottle at the end of it, soft to the feet like a live animal's tummy.

  • It's this 'every night' business / I have issues with. I can't waste another / third of my life drooling, snuffling, / spilling secrets from my honking mouth. / I'm selling the bed.

  • Bed is the best place for reading, thinking, or doing nothing.

  • If relaxation and acceptance are the warp and woof of domestic life, and if home is the place where I am most free to be myself, then my bed is the place where it all comes together. Here is where I think naked thoughts, daydream, make love, worry, plot, argue, get my back scratched, speculate, talk about growing old, and, finally, cut the mooring ties and drift out with the dream tide. The bed, the place where we are born and die, is our primeval place.

  • Bed is too small to rest my tiredness. / I'll take a hill for pillow, soft with trees. / Now draw the clouds up tight beneath my chin. / God, blow the moon out, please.

    • Elizabeth Coatsworth,
    • "Bed Is Too Small," in Marjorie Barrows, ed., One Thousand Beautiful Things ()
  • One good turn, and you have most of the bed covers.

    • Elaine C. Moore,
    • in Leonard Louis Levinson, ed., Bartlett's Unfamiliar Quotations ()
  • My bed is my best friend. ... I type in it, telephone in it, think in it, and stare at the wall from it. Some morning, a long time from now, I hope I will be found peacefully dead in it, lying in a narrow but cozy space between old manuscripts, lost books, empty teacups, misplaced nightgowns, and unsharpened pencils.

  • ... how peaceful a bedroom is without a man in it.

  • Inanimate objects were often so much nicer than people, she thought. What person, for example, could possibly be so comforting as one's bed?

  • Any one who has desperately needed to come home knows what a tremendous feeling it is to be lying in his own bed!

    • Anonymous,
    • in Beatrice Sparks, Go Ask Alice ()
  • That word bedtime is always a damper to juvenile spirits. In all those early years of life the idea of bed is pretty much what the idea of Portland or Dartmoor is to the criminal classes. Children hear their elders talk of wanting to go to bed, and wonder at such a perverted taste. There is always a sense of humiliation in that premature banishment.

  • I love that feeling when you're lying in bed with someone and your legs get all tangled together and u can't tell which legs belong to who and you have to go to the hospital.