We have to eat, and then comes the dull digestive complacencies--or irritations.

We have to take the air or else our thoughts grow sluggish, stupid, run into gulfs and blind alleys.

A thousand distractions arise from within and without, and then comes drowsiness and sleep.

Men seem to live for sleep.

How little of a man's day is his own--even at the best! And then come those false friends, those Thug helpers, the alkaloids that stifle natural fatigue and kill rest--black coffee, cocaine--" "I see," said Isbister.
"I did my work," said the sleepless man with a querulous intonation.
"And this is the price ?" "Yes." For a little while the two remained without speaking.
"You cannot imagine the craving for rest that I feel--a hunger and thirst.