I am not yet ready to die. I do not want to be among the living, so I am among the sleeping, in Somnus's arms. I am neither dead nor truly alive; I exist only in my dreams of another world.
Mod
On days when I oversleep completely, I dislike the world a little less afterwards.
In the first courts and entrances of Hell
Sorrows and vengeful Cares on couches lie :
There sad Old Age abides, Diseases pale,
And Fear, and Hunger, temptress to all crime;
Want, base and vile, and, two dread shapes to see,
Bondage and Death : then Sleep, Death's next of kin;
Virgil
Phoebus [the Sun] can never enter ... with his rising, noontide, or setting rays. Clouds of vapour breathe forth from the earth, and dusky twilight shadows. There no wakeful, crested cock with his loud crowing summons the dawn; no watch-dog breaks the deep silence with his baying, or goose, more watchful than the dog. There is no sound of wild beast or of cattle, of branches rustling in the breeze, no clamorous tongues of men. There mute silence dwells
Ovid
