Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons. It is to grow in the open air read more

Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons. It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.

Sleep is a death, O make me try,
By sleeping, what it is to die:
And as read more

Sleep is a death, O make me try,
By sleeping, what it is to die:
And as gently lay my head
On my grave, as now my bed.

What means this heaviness that hangs upon me?
This lethargy that creeps through all my senses?
Nature, read more

What means this heaviness that hangs upon me?
This lethargy that creeps through all my senses?
Nature, oppress'd and harrass'd out with care,
Sinks down to rest.

If you can't sleep, then get up and do something instead of lying there and worrying. It's the worry that read more

If you can't sleep, then get up and do something instead of lying there and worrying. It's the worry that gets you, not the loss of sleep.

Morning is the best of all times in the garden. The sun is not yet hot. Sweet vapors rise from read more

Morning is the best of all times in the garden. The sun is not yet hot. Sweet vapors rise from the earth. Night dew clings to the soil and makes plants glisten. Birds call to one another. Bees are already at work.

Sleep on, Baby, on the floor,
Tired of all the playing,
Sleep with smile the sweeter for
read more

Sleep on, Baby, on the floor,
Tired of all the playing,
Sleep with smile the sweeter for
That you dropped away in!
On your curls' full roundness stand
Golden lights serenely--
One cheek, pushed out by the hand,
Folds the dimple inly.

Sleep... Oh! how I loathe those little slices of death....

Sleep... Oh! how I loathe those little slices of death....

Good communication is as stimulating as black coffee and just as hard to sleep after.

Good communication is as stimulating as black coffee and just as hard to sleep after.

Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,
Along the Psalmist's music read more

Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,
Along the Psalmist's music deep,
Now tell me if that any is.
For gift or grace, surpassing this--
"He giveth His beloved sleep."