Water sleeps, and the enemy is sleepless. - Bram Stoker

This will not do,' he said to himself. 'If I go on like this I shall become a crazy fool. This must stop! I promised the doctor I would not take tea. Faith, he was pretty right! My nerves must have been getting in a queer state. Funny I did not notice it. I never felt better in my life. However it is all right now, and I shall not be such a fool again.'

Then he mixed himself a good stiff glass of brandy and water and resolutely sat down to his work.

I suppose a cry does us all good at times — clears the air as other rain does.

I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt. I fear. I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul.