Word: insomniac
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...borrow a method which Balzac refined the physiological portrait, readers are known to be solipsistic, irritable, and insomniac; their version of the world is invented in sacerdotal studies where late at night, the loud voices competing about the lavish midnight supper tables described in Falubert's Sentimental Education in Balzac's Los: Illusions in Zola's Nana rise above the roar of traffic down in the street. Thin urban, and afflicted with nervous habits, the reader has to "put on spectacles" (and, with rare exceptions, defective in such natural endowments, he does wear spectacles) to reduce the blur which contemplation...
...Bach) Carlos here presents four tone poems-spring, summer, fall, winter-that give a good approximation of what a year's hike might be like on the Appalachian Trail. Possible uses: mellifluous Muzak for a flower shop or Japanese tearoom, or dozy balm for the pastoral-minded insomniac trapped in the big city...
...organization that charts TV ratings, has selected as a representative national sample. By Nielsen's rating, which is probably as accurate as any such poll, Cavett still runs a poor third to Johnny Carson on NBC and network movies on CBS, drawing 13% of the country's insomniac audience-or about 2,170,000 households-compared with 32% for Carson and 27% for the movies. But his audience has grown substantially since ABC'S April ultimatum. In a few cities, in fact, he seems to have done astonishingly well; in Washington, for example, his audience has almost...
Essentially, the water bed is a vinyl bag filled with water and fitted out with a temperature-control device. Set in a sturdy plastic frame, and covered with ordinary sheets and perhaps a light blanket, it may well be an aid for insomniac mankind in its long battle with Morpheus...
...starts early for Vladimir Nabokov, when the nervy choughs commence kissing outside the sixth floor of the Montreux Palace Hotel. Not that there has been much night for him. "I am the insomniac of universal literature," he cries. "My wet nurse complained. I was always up, smiling and looking around with my bright eyes. I am awakened by my own snore, which is a Nabokovian paradox. Helpful pills do exist, but I am afraid of them. My habitual hallucinations are quite monstrously sufficient, thank Hades. Looking at it objectively, I have never seen a more lucid, more lonely, better balanced...