There were mornings when I just didn't want to get out of bed. But once again, I'm in an adverse situation and having to deal with something new and learn how to do it.

I wouldn't know a space-time continuum or warp core breach if they got into bed with me.

Marriage is like life - it is a field of battle, not a bed of roses.

It's no treat being in bed with me.

My bed isn't made, I'm tired, I haven't slept well for two weeks. I haven't been laid in a month. I don't have a girlfriend. I have a warrant for my arrest.

I do have odd habits. I check under my bed every night for the bogeyman. That's just a little thing, though.

No matter how big or soft or warm your bed is, you still have to get out of it.

I didn't beat her. I just pushed her out of bed.

My voice had a long, nonstop career. It deserves to be put to bed with quiet and dignity, not yanked out every once in a while to see if it can still do what it used to do. It can't.

What does good in bed mean to me? When I'm sick and I stay home from school propped up with lots of pillows watching TV and my mom brings me soup - that's good in bed.

I guess he wanted to see a little more sexual activity because in real life, in bed I think less is more and let the woman come to me. Frankly, I don't even need a woman there.

Theses officers were good friends, so it must have been a terrible argument, because the one who played chess with my father was so angry that he walked over to the dentist's house and got the dentist out of bed and shot him.

Every night when I go to bed, I hope that I may never wake again, and every morning renews my grief.

Well I was an asthmatic child. So that for most of my childhood I was in bed. Bedridden.

As I grow older and older, And totter toward the tomb, I find that I care less and less, Who goes to bed with whom.