In bed my real love has always been the sleep that rescued me by

“In bed my real love has always been the sleep that rescued me by allowing me to dream.” Thus wrote Luigi Pirandello, the Italian master of paradox, whose words flow like the quiet whisper of the soul longing for refuge. Beneath this tender confession lies not merely a man’s affection for sleep, but a revelation of what it means to be human — the eternal struggle between the pain of reality and the healing grace of dreams. In these words, Pirandello unveils his own weariness with the waking world, and his gratitude toward the one sanctuary that cannot betray him: the dream, that hidden garden where truth and illusion dance together in peace.

Pirandello lived in a time of great turmoil — wars, disillusionment, and the shattering of ideals. Yet his truest battles were within the chambers of his mind. Life to him was a theater of masks, where every man played a part, hiding his truest self behind layers of duty, expectation, and despair. In such a world, sleep became not a simple rest, but a deliverance, a silent redemption that freed him from the masks of day. Through dreams, he could wander unchained — he could love without fear, live without judgment, imagine without restraint. Thus, in the tender stillness of the night, dreaming became his salvation, the one pure love untouched by the sorrows of waking life.

Many souls throughout history have sought this same refuge. Think of Vincent van Gogh, tormented by the brilliance of his own mind, whose days were filled with anguish and loneliness. But in his dreams — and through the dreamlike visions of his art — he found a world of color and meaning. The swirling skies of Starry Night, the golden glow of his sunflowers, were born not from the joy of the waking world, but from the deep and merciful realm where pain transforms into beauty. Van Gogh’s brush was his dream made visible, and like Pirandello, he found in creation and imagination the rescue of the soul.

There is something sacred in the act of surrendering to sleep. When the body lies still, and the mind drifts beyond reason’s gate, we enter a temple untouched by time. There, the weary heart may remember its innocence. The burdens of the world dissolve, and dreams become our silent teachers. In their strange language of symbols and shadows, they reveal to us what our waking mind dares not see. They heal, they whisper, they weave fragments of our lives into patterns of meaning. Perhaps that is why Pirandello called sleep his real love — because in its embrace, truth comes clothed not in pain, but in poetry.

Yet we must not mistake this love for weakness or escape. To dream is not to flee life, but to renew the strength to face it. The man who dreams deeply returns to the world with clearer sight. The woman who rests her heart in the sanctuary of night awakens with gentler wisdom. Dreams remind us that reality is not all there is — that behind every sorrow, there waits another realm of beauty and hope, waiting to be brought forth into the day.

To the restless ones, who lie awake burdened by the noise of the world — remember this teaching: do not despise sleep, and do not neglect your dreams. They are not mere illusions, but the quiet messengers of your inner self. Rest is not idleness; it is the soil from which your spirit grows anew. Guard your nights as you would guard your heart. Let your mind wander in the gardens of sleep, and you will awaken with the fragrance of peace still upon you.

The lesson, then, is both gentle and profound: cherish your dreams, for they are the bridge between what is and what might yet be. When the world feels too heavy, remember that sleep — that silent, faithful companion — waits not to erase you, but to rescue you. In the stillness of the night, dare to let go, dare to trust the unseen, dare to dream again. For in dreams, the heart remembers its wholeness, and the soul rediscovers its song. And when morning comes, carry that song into the waking world — for that is how dreams become life, and life becomes beautiful once more.