Sleep is still most perfect, in spite of hygienists, when it is shared with a beloved. The warmth, the security and peace of soul, the utter comfort from the touch of the other, knits the sleep, so that it takes the body and soul completely in its healing. Paul lay against her and slept; whilst she, always a bad sleeper, fell later on into a profound sleep that seemed to give her faith.
- D.H. Lawrence,
Sons and Lovers
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