I’ve dreamed enough to have a drink.

Darkness endows the small and ordinary ones among mankind with poetical power.

At night comes counsel to the wise.

Each night’s new terror drives away the terror of the night before.

What hath night to do with sleep?

Dreams have always been my friend, full of information, full of warnings.

Our entire history is merely the history of the waking life of man; nobody has yet considered the history of his sleeping life.

When night in her rusty dungeon has imprisoned our eyesight, and that we are shut separately in our chambers from resort, the devil keeps his audit in our sin-guilty consciences.

By night an atheist half believes a God.

In my dreams I sleep with everybody.

Those who are awake have a world that is one and common, but each of those who are asleep turns aside into his own particular world.

The great difficulty lies in trying to transpose last night’s moment to a day which has no knowledge of it.

Some nights are like honey—and some like wine—and some like wormwood.