A Quote by Richard Le Gallienne
We are all treading the vanishing road of a song in the air, the vanishing road of the spring flowers and the winter snows, the vanishing roads of the winds and the streams, the vanishing road of beloved faces.
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The modern world is devoted to vanishing species, vanishing weather and vanishing capacity for wonder.
The vanishing point leads to the missiles of today, which can take us out of this world. It could be that the west's greatest mistakes were the 'invention' of the external vanishing point and the internal combustion engine.
Winter is on the road to spring. Some think it a surly road. I do not. A primrose road to spring were not as engaging to my heart as a frozen icicled craggy way angered over by strong winds that never take the iron trumpets from their lips.
I'm not vanishing into thin air.
Nature is forever arriving and forever departing, forever approaching, forever vanishing; but in her vanishings there seems to be ever the waving of a hand, in all her partings a promise of meetings farther along the road.
What's your road, man? - holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road. It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow. Where body how?
Already the dandelions Are changed into vanishing ghosts.
There's no such thing as the middle class. It's absolutely vanishing.
Photographers deal in things which are continuously vanishing.
The trouble with me is, I belong to a vanishing race. I'm one of the intellectuals.
Your eye level is your reference point for drawing the perspective lines. All lines above your eye level will go down to the horizon vanishing point and all lines below your eye level will go up to the horizon vanishing point.
Life itself is vanishing fast. Make haste for eternity.
I can't forgive my friends for dying; I don't find these vanishing acts of theirs at all amusing.
Sleep is not, death is not; Who seem to die Live. House you were born in, Friends of your spring-time, old man and young maid, Day's toil and it's guerdon, They are all vanishing, Fleeing to fables, Cannot be moored
Beauty is vanishing from our world because we live as though it does not matter.
I feel myself dissolving, vanishing into nothingness, for if there is no one in the world who cares for you, do you really exist at all?
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