‘The city could not rest. It was destined to move forever, because if it halted it would start the long slow movement down here — down past– where it would come, eventually, to the zone where the mountains became ridges a few inches high, where an irresistible pressure would sweep it to its destruction… He was well beyond the zone of maximum pressure now, but he was still too aware of it to halt. It was not a pleasant thought to sleep while the ground moved beneath him, bearing him ineluctably southwards. He was a microcosm of the city: he could no more rest than it.’
Inverted World, Christopher Priest
Absence Club 