She read her way around the library, hungry for journeys, adventures, laughter and passion. She took each new book to bed like a lover, savouring every chapter, going too far some nights until the letters danced like insects and she was groggy next day at work. But still she'd sneak away for lunchtime trysts, her eager fingers fumbling for the bookmark.
God, if ever I have come close to wanting to commit suicide, it is now, with the groggy sleepless blood dragging through my veins, and the air thick and gray with rain ... I fell into bed again this morning, begging for sleep, withdrawing into the dark, warm, fetid escape from action, from responsibility. No good.
Have you ever seen the dawn? Not a dawn groggy with lack of sleep or hectic with mindless obligations and you about to rush off on an early adventure or business, but full of deep silence and absolute clarity of perception? A dawning which you truly observe, degree by degree. It is the most amazing moment of birth. And more than anything it can spur you to action. Have a burning day.
Sometimes, I think, that in the mornings when you first wake up, every thing that happened in the previous day rushes through our mind so fast, we, A: Don't realize it. B: Become more tired, die a little inside, and become groggy. Since everyday, we die a little inside we age closer and closer to death. We constantly grow older, and we're constantly dying. Therefore, don't wake me up early, or I'll take it that you wanted to kill me.
Melanie Kay Taylor
Fleet kept running, ' Kaladin growled, getting back under Elhokar's arm. 'What?' 'He couldn't win, but he kept running. And when the storm caught him, it didn't matter that he'd died, because he'd run for all he had.' 'Sure. All right.' The king sounded groggy, though Kaladin couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the blood loss. 'We all die in the end, you see, ' Kaladin said. 'So I guess what truly matters is just how well you've run. And Elhokar, you've kept running since your father was killed, even if you screw up all the storming time.' 'Thank you?' the king said, drowsy.
Gemma Davidson, ' she answered, her voice as groggy as I felt. 'Where are you?' I asked. 'Who is this?' 'Elvis.' 'What time is it?' 'Hammer time?' 'Charley.' 'Did you text me? Did your car break down?' 'No and no. Why are you doing this to me?' She was funny. 'Check your cell.' I heard a loud, sleepy sigh, some rustling of sheets, then, 'It won't come on.' 'Not at all?' 'No. What did you do to it?' 'I ate it for breakfast. Check the battery compartment.' 'Where the hell is that?' 'Um, behind the battery door.' 'Are you punking me?' I heard her fumbling with the phone. 'Gem, if I was going to punk you, I wouldn't simply turn off your phone. I would pour honey in your hair while you slept. Or, you know, something like that.' 'That was you?' she asked, appalled.
Bree stared down at Bernardo's still form. The monitor was the only sound in the room apart from his deep breathing. Alessandro had gone down to the cafeteria with Will and Gianni to grab something to eat before they left for home. Bree lied and told him that she wanted to check in with Tina and her mother Roxanna for a few minutes before they left. Even unconscious, the son of a bitch was formidable and Bree felt nervous around him. 'Why don't you do everyone a favour and just die already?' Bree said. No response. Bree sneered and shook her head, turning to leave. 'You could always smother me with a pillow, ' a groggy voice said behind her, making her heart nearly stop. Bree whirled around wide-eyed and met Bernardo's dark gaze. She forced herself to shrug and crossed her arms. 'Do you think Alessandro would forgive you for murdering his father?' Bernardo asked. They both knew the answer to that.
Your brain is involved in everything you do. Your brain controls everything you do, feel, and think. When you look in the mirror, you can thank your brain for what you see. Ultimately, it is your brain that determines whether your belly bulges over your belt buckle or your waistline is trim and toned. Your brain plays the central role in whether your skin looks fresh and dewy or is etched with wrinkles. Whether you wake up feeling energetic or groggy depends on your brain. When you head to the kitchen to make breakfast, it is your brain that determines whether you go for the leftover pizza or the low-fat yogurt and fruit. Your brain controls whether you hit the gym or sit at the computer to check your Facebook page. If you feel the need to light up a cigarette or drink a couple cups of java, that's also your brain's doing.ACTION STEP Remember that your brain is involved in everything you do, every decision you make, every bite of food you take, every cigarette you smoke, every worrisome thought you have, every workout you skip, every alcoholic beverage you drink, and more.
Daniel G. Amen
Heavy hearts, heavy eyelids, " said the master of the caravan. "Huh?" Heather looked up in dismay, shocked to find she'd nearly been left behind as the caravan prepared to move on. Her last night's sleep had been fitful, full of dreams where Khalid made her suffer for running away. Now she felt drained and groggy, unable to get the images of Khalid spanking her over his knee and then ravishing her out of her tired head. "Look, " the caravan master said. "Riders approaching, a great armed party. No doubt they are searching for escaped slaves." "No doubt." Heather straightened up wearily in the saddle, determined to outwit Khalid and conceal her true identity as a runaway. The one thing she was sure of was that capture would bring a fate worse than death. Already she could imagine Khalid tying her up, spanking her bottom, making her howl for mercy until she had no pride or will to resist. And then would come the true test of her virtue...