Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Dried. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Dried Quotes And Sayings by 98 Authors including Marlon James,David Peter Gray,Mehmet Murat Ildan,Leah Devlin,Vu Tran for you to enjoy and share.
Dead. It sounds final but it's a word missing an ing.
is the answer none of the above
crouched in a hole like a mud-streaked fugitive
everyday a different version of
pouring it away like a water through a sieve
When we are bone-dry, all we need is a heavy rain!
ripped the paper
My hands felt bruised from the hot, dry air. Inside,
Never quenched. Though I am doused in you, I burn.
smeared a balm over the end of it.
Nothing dries sooner then a teare.
Her Pan-Cake makeup was cracking like a dried-out Dakota lake bed.
Noisome liquid the bag had rested in. The rest stood on
Some days words flow through me like the Nile, and other days I'm as dry as the Sahara. I'm afraid you've caught me in the middle of a drought, but I'm confident rain shall fall again.
a bag of wet farts. But
sputtered and then
Raw, gentle, and easy, it mizzled out of the high air, a special elixir, tasting of spells and stars and air, carrying a peppery dust in it, and moving like a rare light sherry on his tongue. Rain.
mashed into a casserole of wreckage that still smoked and burned.
Drain and dry pickles.
dried blood on Quicksilver's hands,
cereal and went out into the
were half dead from too little water,
It's evening, one of those gray water-color washes, like liquid dust.
Understandable, really. Moist is a terrible word." "So true. It should only be used to describe the consistency of cake.
resacas have all gone dry. The entire earth, it seems, is being slowly transformed into
Darkness fell like a wet sponge.
After being dry for a couple a weeks, three cocktails went down quicker than a boner in a busted rubber.
He's lost his colour very far from here,
Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry
The leaves were still on the trees, but were becoming dry, perched like birds ready to fly off.
How the story is read is very important is it soft, is it in dry way or smooth...
Minds are like flowers. If you let it sit there without soaking anything up, it will dry up.
Cracked. The tub was as old as God and pitted. There
Whacked away under the desk like hail on a barn roof.
Eaten bread is forgotten.
It's so dry the trees are bribing the dogs.
The sky had cleared, and now the sun was overhead, already baking the wet ground so that you could see the humidity drifting lazily above the cotton stalks.
I made you all wet.
I sat up in bed. My T-shirt was soaking wet. My pillow was wet. My hair was wet. And my room was sticky and humid.
I am watching parts of me evaporate like sidewalk water. This wet grey, this nighttime dew, gone before morning.
I am like a lemon. I'm pressed for more juice. When I have fun, there's still juice. I am not dried up.
I've been having a dry spell and it's time to make it rain," I
Down came the dry flakes, fat enough and heavy enough to crash like nickels on stone. It always surprised him, how quiet it was. Not like rain, but like a secret.
I washed mud off of mud.
Is it nice, my preciousss? Is it juicy? Is it scrumptiously crunchable?
Dry-humping, I believe it's called.
I poked at the white paper bag. There was nothing left inside. Just like me: a clean crisp outside and nothing at all on the inside.
Pressed caviar has the consistency of chilled tar.
shut and slipped into
Hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig.
Beh oui. Better sticky than burned.
I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail, poisoned in the bushes,
blown out on the trail; hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn,
"Come in," she said, "I'll give ya shelter from the storm."
Only I had dry eyes, a dry heart.
How very wet this water is.
remove the speck from your
Nothing dries more quickly than a tear.
Zapped while zipping.
Thoughts shut up want air, And spoil, like bales unopen'd to the sun.
dripping-wet Gloss
Flakes. I was exhausted, shattered, in bewilderment. But behind the bewilderment the truth was
It came out sparkling like liquid sky.
He was white and shaken, like a dry martini.
I felt something wet trickle down the side of my face. I reached up and swiped the salty wetness away.
How quaint.
How very quaint.
Like believing some things last forever.
A tear. As if that could make a difference.
It had soaked in on him at last, the spot he was in. Soaked clear through a quart of booze until it hit him where he lived and rubbed the place raw.
Desription should be very brief and have an incidental nature.
I am pretty sarcastic and pretty dry.
Some people are so dry that you might soak them in a joke for a month and it would not get through their skins.
showered and dressed in jeans and a white eyelet
The stars are threshed, and the souls are threshed from their husks.
It had been so long since he'd been tempted that he felt as dry as the Northern California landscape, one spark away from complete devastation.
Frowning, I glazed
It almost rained Saturday.The clouds hung low over the farm.The air felt thick.It smelled like rain.
In town,the sidewalks got damp, that was all.
The sun was beginning to dry out the mud that Arthur lay in.
Time is running out to permeate the piece.
It rolled over you like old oil from a fryer.
Dryness promotes the formation of flower buds ... flowering is, after all, not an aesthetic contribution, but a survival mechanism.
Dry leaves upon the wall, Which flap like rustling wings and seek escape, A single frosted cluster on the grape Still hangs
and that is all.
prevent it from drying out you can place a damp piece
Here, said the nuggety bald fixture. You look dry as a camel's cookie.
Seeped into his bones from decades of sitting outdoors in
Baby, why are you all wet?
I still felt unformed, like a cake half baked with edges crisp, but still mushy in the middle.
The letters I had inscribed on it were not even dry yet and already they belonged to the past.
Old, like swallowed tears.
You know what actors are like; they moisturize every night. They're frozen in time.
The rain drags Black Sun down, but the rain dried by White Moon.
You know when your mouth a-gettin' dry, you're plenty high
Not hungry,' Case managed. His brain was deep-fried. No, he decided, it had been thrown into hot fat and left there, and the fat had cooled, a thick dull grease congealing on the wrinkled lobes, shot through with greenish-purple flashes of pain. 'You
Jaded. I never understood the term. Jade is pretty and worth something, yes? I was rusted if I was anything. Too long in the rain. Going out in an orange blaze of muted, anonymous, common-as-dirt oxidation.
Aren't you going to dry the floor?' asked Annika.
'Oh, no, it can dry in the sun,' answered Pippi. 'I don't think it will catch cold so long as it keeps moving.
Here, rancid air hangs heavily in a void, its texture thick, liquid, clinging, in a night full of the hot smells of decay.
Fresher than a pillow with a mint on it
If y'all fresh to death, then I'm deceased.
It was still very wet under the trees. A careless tug at a branch might flip cold rainbow-edged drops down your back. And the sky was gray as concrete. But they enjoyed the silence, the soft sucking ground matted with last year's needles.
Freshness is essential. That makes all the difference.
A wet eyed preacher will never preach dry sermons
Wet, wet, the interior of the island, they said, bog and marsh, rivers and chains of ponds alive with metal-throated birds. The ships scraped on around the points. And the lookout saw shapes of caribou folding into fog.
Always wetweating-always wetweating!
If I was any wetter I'd be lying in a puddle.
Washed-out like last year's swimsuit.
Where the label had peeled
sampled the tasty food until, appetites sated,
Dried mud flats, sun-warmed, have a delicious touch, cushioned and smooth; so has long grass at morning, hot in the sun, but still cool and wet when the foot sinks into it, like food melting to a new flavour in the mouth. And a flower caught by the stalk between the toes is a small enchantment.
I do have an important question, but I can ask it from out here. Are you dry?
Of course I'm dry. Why do you ask that?
So many daughters have come home wet lately.