No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.
When I lay my head on the pillow at night I can say I was a decent person today. That's when I feel beautiful.
SUCCESS is being able to come home, lay your head on the pillow and SLEEP in PEACE.
There's nothing better than sinking into my feather pillows after a hard day's work.
One of my keys to success is a lot of pillows. I feel like a lot of pillows is important to relax each piece of your body.
There is no pillow as soft as a clear conscience.
You should have a softer pillow than my heart.
Send me the pillow you dream on.
Don't fight with the pillow, but lay down your head And kick every worriment out of the bed.
Pack a pillow and blanket and see as much of the world as you can.You will not regret it.
Last night I dreamt I ate a ten pound marshmallow. When I woke up the pillow was gone.
Let gratitude be the pillow upon which you kneel to say your nightly prayer. And let faith be the bridge you build to overcome evil and welcome good.
The pillow smells like the sunlight, a precious smell.
Fatigue is the best pillow.
An honest man's pillow is his peace of mind.
There's no pillow quite so soft as a father's strong shoulder.
A clear conscience is the softest pillow in the world.
Luxury lives in the finer details. It's a cloth napkin at a dinner table. It's a mint on your pillow before bed.
I put a piece of paper under my pillow, and when I could not sleep I wrote in the dark.
There are as many pillows of illusion as flakes in a snow-storm. We wake from one dream into another dream.
What a happy and holy fashion it is that those who love one another should rest on the same pillow.
-Before leaving my room i turn, and (stooping through the morning) kiss this pillow, dear where our heads lived and were.
For God is wholly present in all creation, in every corner, he is behind you and before you. Do you think he is sleeping on a pillow in heaven? He is watching over you and protecting you.
When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time—the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes—when there's a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she's gone, forever—there comes another day, and another specifically missing part.
And when thou art weary I'll find thee a bed, Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.
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