Once Iraq became a hot bed for kidnapping, reporters had to use every kind of trick they could manage to avoid it. This included chase cars, security men for more prosperous agencies and networks, and GPS signals on satellite phones that could pinpoint the journalist’s locations.
I tweet from bed. I love it because it’s so quick. And it’s funny. But it also leaves a lot of room for error because new people don’t sense the sarcasm – there’s no sarcasm font.
Hope is the motivation that empowers the unemployed, enabling them to get out of bed every single morning with unbounded enthusiasm as they look for work.
I want so much for my lover. At night when our beds are drawn close together I waken and see his dear yellow head on the pillow – sometimes his arm thrown over on my bed – and I kiss his hand, very softly so that it will not waken him.
I like to go to bed early so I can get up early.
I thank God that I can say on my death bed that I am a virtuous woman.
I think we should look forward to death more than we do. Of course everybody hates to go to bed or miss anything, but dying is really the only chance we’ll get to rest.
What do I wear in bed? Why, Chanel No. 5, of course.
If you tell your husband or boyfriend for his whole life that he needn’t worry about his clothes, that he couldn’t possibly understand them, that they are a woman’s affair, then you can hardly complain that he doesn’t have any style sense. You all make this bed.
I had some years of definite frustration. Auditioning and not working as much as I would have liked to, or working and being paid a pittance, and sort of scrounging by in New York and sleeping on a chair that folded out into a bed.
There’s no doubt that the Christian right has gone to bed with the more conservative elements of the Republican Party. And there’s been a melding in their goals when it comes to the separation of church and state. I’ve always believed in the separation of church and state.
It’s the nature of journalism to need to be close to your subjects. And either you’re able to be tough on them, which a lot of us are, or you get in bed with them, and some people do.
I am a completely horizontal author. I can’t think unless I’m lying down, either in bed or stretched on a couch and with a cigarette and coffee handy. I’ve got to be puffing and sipping.
I can’t go to bed if I haven’t done my diary. I always record them just as I’ve always recorded all my interviews and speeches.
I had a little radio next to the bed and I’d just listen to the top 10 – I mean, it was crap but I was young – and I would get up in the dark with the moon coming in through the window and I would just dance in my pajamas in the dark to the top 10. I didn’t have a CD player… so it was kind of all I had, you know?
Sunsets are great. Sunrises are a mixed bag. You either got up way too early or went to bed way too late.
I do like routines. Waking up the same time, go to bed the same time.
I have a hippopotamus skull next to my bed, called Gregory. When I was six, my three sisters and I clubbed together and paid £4 for it in a junk shop. We collected owl pellets, ostrich eggs and sheep skulls for our natural history museum at home.
The sharpest memory of our old-fashioned Christmas eve is my mother’s hand making sure I was settled in bed.
If you’re unwell you can simply cuddle up in bed and tune into a thriller. It’s the best remedy.
I’m such a magpie. I’ll get halfway through one thing and pick up something else. I always have 5 or 6 books open and spine-up by my bed: it’s like a row of tents. I don’t finish nearly as many books as I should.
The last thing I do before bed is think I should take my contacts out. Then I fall asleep.
If a man lets all of my dogs sleep in the bed with us, then that is the most romantic thing. You must love my dogs in order to love me. A man who is nice to my animals and doesn’t shoo them away – well, that’s the height of romance.
When I was a young actor, in my first apartment, the first thing I bought was a Steinway piano. There was no bed at first. I slept on the floor.
Once, the parental bed collapsed because all the children sat on it at once.
I think it’s probably best to work out in the morning to get it out of the way. My ultimate top tip is to drag yourself, even if you have to roll yourself out of your bed and in to a sit-up – it’s really not that bad once you start.
Just lying in my big bed with Frette sheets. Oh my god, there’s nothing better.
I lost my son in late 2011. He had been totally incapacitated from his neck down for the last eight years of his life, but his mind was alive and brilliant in those years. He even wrote a book, ‘Allegheny Mountain,’ lying at home in his hospital bed.
When I was young, I would make my parents breakfast in bed on Saturday mornings.
I don’t sleep well. I rehash everything in bed. The mind’s still working.
Why can’t you share your bed? The most loving thing to do is to share your bed with someone. It’s very charming. It’s very sweet. It’s what the whole world should do.
My father was predisposed to drunken rages. I would hide under the bed. My sister and I were talking just the other day about the terror a drunken man in a rage can create in a child.
I’m not a tanning bed person at all, but I’ll get a spray tan.
Running clears my mind, and gives me a reason to get out of bed in the morning.
I have a problem with cabinets being messy and people just shoving things in and closing the door. I will lie in bed and not be able to sleep because I’ll say to myself: ‘I think I saw something in that cabinet that just shouldn’t be there.’
I don’t have a life, really. I take my kids to school, and I go home, and I write. Then I go pick my kids up, make them dinner, put them to bed, and write some more.
When you really deep down look at it, we go to bed every night, get up every morning, stay here for 70 or 80 years, and then we die.
I am interested in levels of brain discourse. How articulate are the voices in your head? You know, there’s a different voice for the phone, and a different voice if you’re talking in bed. When you’re starting off with a narrator, it’s interesting to think, where is their voice coming from, what part of their brain?
For someone who is rarely on time, my body clock always knows when it’s too early to go to bed and I just lie there in the dark like I’m hiding.
Sometimes I want to bury myself in bed, and I don’t want anyone to know anything about me, and I don’t want anyone to judge me.
It’s just an ice bucket with a bottle in it. The two flute glasses are little tray. I got to shut the curtains. I’m in my boxer shorts and shirt. I’m going to take a bath and go to bed. But I want to shut the blinds so it’s really dark in the room.
John F. Kennedy went to bed at 3:30 in the morning on November 9, 1960, uncertain whether he had defeated Richard Nixon for the presidency. He thought he had won, but six states hung in the balance, and after months of exhaustive campaigning, he was too tired to stay awake any longer.
Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.
There are two kinds of women, those who want power in the world and those who want power in bed.
I think dads let babies take more of a risk, maybe bounce off a bed more or jump off a couch or do more risk-taking things.
As a kid, I was terrified. I was a bed wetter, and I had to go to sleepaway camp every summer, which was humiliating and terrifying. I had lots of insecurities and scaredness.
This life is a hospital in which every patient is possessed with a desire to change his bed.
The worst hotels are any with a bad bed. I stayed in a hotel where they left cards telling me my enjoyment was of paramount importance. I should have written, ‘Nice rooms, crap beds.’
Airline glamour never promised anything as mundane as elbow room, much less a flat bed, a massage, or an arugula salad. It promised a better world. Service and dress reflected the more formal era, but no one expected air travel to be comfortable. It was amazing just to have hot food above the clouds.
Like my father, I would never as a child throw anything away, keeping old toys, electric motors and bits of broken machines under my bed in what I called my Box of Useful Things.
I could not lose unless I was caught in bed with a dead girl or a live boy.
I’m not against business. I’m against big business in bed with big government.
I love sleeping in my son’s silly racecar bed. I love watching hours of ‘Yo Gabba Gabba.’ I love long playdates with his best friend Jack and traveling with Zev. Most of all I love coming home from work and seeing Zev run up to me saying, ‘My mommy’s home! My mommy’s home!’
There’s a little vanity chair that Charlie gave me the first Christmas we knew each other. I’ll not be parting with that, nor our bed – the four-poster – I’ll be needing that to die in.
When I go to bed at night, I ask God to give me another day; I ask him to keep me strong and make me a good teacher and to keep spreading this right word.
I never read in bed, only in my study.
There’s so much you can do with laying words on a bed of music. You can completely change their meaning with the type of music or the way they’re sung.
I’m petrified of spiders. I hate them. I sleep with a glass of water beside my bed every night. I woke up once to take a sip of water and almost swallowed a dead one floating in the glass.
