Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Subside. 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 Subside Quotes And Sayings by 98 Authors including Geof Huth,Theodore Roethke,Helga Sellmain,Charlie N. Holmberg,Zig Ziglar for you to enjoy and share.
coming
down
with
something
going
away
with
nothing
What falls away is always. And is near.
rolled down. As I
Make it whole, and it will rise whole. That's your first lesson of the day.
The only way to coast is downhill.
You can sink a thing deep, weight it down with stones, but eventually, it will surface.
On the surface of the ocean, men wage war and destroy each other; but down here, just a few feet beneath the surface, there is a calm and peace, unmolested by man
Then normal sank.
shatter the foundation
Blowing,Blowing
The gray slabs
Will lose you
the winds will flick you away
In a whiff
I fell into the water with a large splash and sunk like a stone. My feet guided the way as I drifted further into the murky depths.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Unwind the - Stan began, and then there was a much louder explosion. The echo rolled slowly across the Barrens. A cloud of gulls rose from the eastern side of the dump, squalling and crying. They all jumped this time. Stan dropped
Stay quiet and the noisy surface dialogues will cease.
Then the substratum will rise up to the top.
It is simple.
Follow this.
To defeat Fortune, men must anticipate such evils before they arise, and take prudent steps to avoid them. When the waters have already risen, it is too late to build dikes and embankments.
The rising tide lifts all the boats.
As though it had come to the top of the hill and gone over a precipice,
The fires pool and strut; they flow up the sides of the ramparts like tides; they splash into alleys, over rooftops, through a carpark. Smoke chases dust; ash chases smoke. A newsstand floats, burning.
away from the ocean, heading toward the
Disappear, she says. I love that word.
The silences here are retreats of sound, like the retreat of the surf before a tidal wave: sound draining away, down slopes of acoustic passage, to gather, someplace else, to a great surge of noise.
The progress of the Way seems retreating.
A single breaker may recede; but the tide is evidently coming in.
Swells, Marina? we ocean, depths, Marina? we sky!
Everyone who wades through time eventually gets dragged out to sea by the undertone,
A story then...is water trying to get back to sea level
Gradually, then suddenly.
keep the magma down, at least until it finds another, slower way to wend its way to the surface.
Revive, Rekindle, Rejoice.
The last thing to collapse is the surface.
Sometimes we forget that the top of the wave, the top of the crest is always the bottom, there is no inside without an outside, and there is no up without a down.
What was scattered, gathers.
What was gathered, blows away
And from a poise at this station the plane may swoop down, at great disadvantage if close to the back of the wave, at various slopes and directions till it cuts into the air that is being raised by the face of the following wave, which again enables it to resume its velocity.
In Maureen Owen's perfectly titled Erosion's Pull, words and lines map, unmap, and revamp our everyday postcontemporary geographies: ironies and ambiguities, surrealistic conundrums, kaleidoscopic comedies, puzzlements, certain and uncertain loves and losses.
A strange ripple...like an unexpected changing of the tide.
The sea was no stranger to the rock on the beach. The sea came often to the rock, rushing up wetly against its warm grey, and always as it swept away it took an infinitesimal part of the rock with it. The rock had known the waves for a long time, and learned it was in its nature to erode.
Unbalance so as to re-balance.
And he suddenly realized the meaning of the word 'dissipate'
to dissipate into thin air; to make nothing out of something. In the little hours of the night every move from place to place was an enormous human jump, an increase of paying for the privilege of slower and slower motion.
Floating high on the waters of catastrophe
In order to get to the other side of the shore, you have to lose sight of this one!
The waves may break upon the mountain, yet still they come, wave upon wave, and in the end only pebbles remain where once the mountain stood. And soon even the pebbles are swept away, to be ground beneath the sea for all eternity.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Year's end, all
corners of this
floating world, swept.
I let go of all negativity that rests in my body and mind
Yielding, like ice about to melt.
Nothing recedes like success.
I wish to go down under the waters -
the cool, crystalline waters that I knew, where all
that is, here, existing, is
is only to be lost within the susurrations
and the rumours of water and the evening star
we wait for...
There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it.
What our contempts doth often hurl from us,
We wish it ours again. The present pleasure,
By revolution lowering, does become
The opposite of itself. She's good, being gone.
The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on.
The car as we know it is on the way out.Car-- J.g. Ballard
defenestration," which derives from "fenestra," the Latin word for "window," refers to the act of throwing something or someone out of the window. Knowing this, we can impress our friends with statements like, "Sally finished her apple and defenestrated the core.")
I sink you, that I will not be sunk by you.
I vanish westward
into smoke.
You've seen my descent, now watch my rising.
But still, like air, I'll rise
Go nowhere on a horse that fades.
Chin up, and we'll drown a little slower.
When the river rises, sometimes the only thing to do is float.
On Sunday, something washed up on shore.
I gave myself up
to my tears. It was as though my head had turned to clear water, it was
falling pleasantly away drop by drop; soon nothing would remain.
Let this expiate!
Those who break down the dikes will themselves be drowned in the inundation.
The avalanche was down, the hillside swept bare behind it; the last echoes died on the white slopes; the new mount glittered and lay still in the silent valley.
And so in my mind's eye these coastal forms merge and blend in a shifting, kaleidoscopic pattern in which there is no finality, no ultimate and fixed reality - earth becoming fluid as the sea itself.
Surrender to the flow.
The sea was surging among the pilings like the blithe mindless forces of dissolution.
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land, Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
Doldrums, n.
The proper verb for depression is sink.
I know what dissipate means, Arty. I'm not three, for heaven's sake.
Under a low sun, pursued by fish and mounted by crows and veiled in a loud swarm of bluebottle flies, the body comes down the river like a deadfall stripped clean.
ruins." A flush spread up
To crumble or to fly is aways a choice ...
The wave hits. It doesn't even slow. Hungries slam full-tilt into the mesh and into the concrete stanchions that support it. It leans inwards, groans and creaks, but seems to be holding. The front ranks of walking corpses are treading water. But
Climax: It's all downhill from here.
And the sea moved her back down the shore.
The walls between Man and Faery are coming down.
Towards the avoidance of a piece of verbal confusion: What is intended to be actively destroyed must first of all have been firmly grasped; what crumbles away crumbles away, but cannot be destroyed.
The fall of dropping water wears away the Stone.
Muddy water, let stand, becomes clear.
Declines are temporary, gains are permanent.
The ground swell is what's going to sink you as well as being what buoys you up. These are cliches also, of course, and I'm sometimes interested in how much one can get away with.
I am carried off. We yield to this slow flood ... In and out, we are swept; ... we can not step outside its sinuous, its hesitating, its abrupt, its perfectly encircling walls.
The sea is not rising. It hasn't risen in 50 years.
Be careful what rubbish you toss in the tide. On outgoing billows it drifts from your sight, But back on the incoming waves it may ride And land at your threshold again before night. Be careful what rubbish you toss in the tide ...
As the work proceeded we found that the western end of the cutting receded under the slope of the rock, and thus was partly roofed over by the overhanging rock.
We say, 'The market plummets,' like it's some roaring creature.
We must all wage an intense, lifelong battle against the constant downward pull. If we relax, the bugs and weeds of negativity will move into the garden and take away everything of value.
This matter is best disposed of from a great height, over water.
Take down the walls
the ruin insufficiently ruined,
There's only one thing you can do: Toss your pebble in the river, watch it ripple, and know you have moved the ocean.
Rising tides lift all boats,
the coast, irregular
Where lies the final harbor, whence we unmoor no more?
Therefore a man should examine for himself the great piles of superimposed strata, and watch the rivulets bringing down mud, and the waves wearing away the sea-cliffs, in order to comprehend something about the duration of past time, the monuments of which we see all around us.
Water in the boat is the ruin of the boat, but water under the boat is its support.
Up from the dark the moon begins to creep; and now a pallid, haggard face lifts she above the water-line: thus from the deep a drowned body rises solemnly.
Atlantis will rise again.
The ocean-blue bowl won't
refuse to bruise, won't hold it back
from the gaping earth-wounds.
There will still come
water, chill wind and happy
goosebumps,
and in the utmost corners of oaks,
leaves laughing.
Gradually the sunken land begins to rise again, and falls perhaps again, and rises again after that, more and more gently each time, till as it were the panting earth, worn out with the fierce passions of her fiery youth, has sobbed herself to sleep once more, and this new world of man is made.
You can fall, but you can rise also.
As the sun sinks
It casts that silver bridge
Across the lake