The repose of sleep refreshes only the body. It rarely sets the soul at rest. The repose of the night does not belong to us. It is not the possession of our being. Sleep opens within us an inn for phantoms. In the morning we must sweep out the shadows.
Thanks to the greatest invention of recent years the MP3-playing alarm clock I can now choose the song that wakes me up in the morning.
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The episodes all blend together for me so I don't remember. I can't even remember what I had for breakfast this morning. I always feel I must be such a disappointment to them.
