Page:The life and opinions of Tristram Shandy (Volume 4).pdf/122

 thrown across the arm of the other, he returned along the gallery to bed, something slower than he came.

Wish I could write a chapter upon sleep.

A fitter occasion could never have presented itself, than what this moment offers, when all the curtains of the family are drawn—the candles put out—and no creature's eyes are open but a single one, for the other has been shut these twenty years, of my mother's nurse.

It is a fine subject!