Fire Quotes - Page 3

First the mania for confession,then the mania for clarity,issued from you, dark, hypocriticalsentiment! Let them nowcondemn my every passion, let themdrag me through the mud, call me twisted,foul pervert, dilettante, perjurer;you keep me apart, give me life’s assurance:I burn at the stake, play the card of fireand win: I win this small,vast possession, my infinite,miserable pitywhich makes even righteous anger my friend.And I can do this because I’ve endured you too long!

I have a suspicion that when first built, Stonehenge may have glowed blue with St. Elmo's fire during certain times of the year

I forced myself to breathe deeply; perhaps they would have vanished. Perhaps I'd been imagining them because Brae was gone and I was scared without him, and now that he was back I'd feel safe enough again that they would go away. Perhaps it was just paint or something and would have been washed out by the sea spray earlier. I breathed again, feeling much calmer and then, slowly, opened my eyes.

We are forever surrounded by ash. But we are fire. And fire rises.

all people start tocome apart finallyand there it is:just empty ashtrays in a roomor wisps of hair on a combin the dissolving moonlight.

When the winter comes, fire becomes a king!

I think you should ignore Sara Teasdale (she’s a bit of a moper, to be honest.). tTake Christina Rossetti’s advice and be fire.

Around me shone the kitchen I'd worked in each day: the copper pans hung neatly, the scratched wooden table and neat blue plates set in rows on the dresser. I got up to rake out the cinders and suddenly clutched at the black stone of the hearth. How long was it since as a new girl I'd first spiked a fowl and set it to roast on that fire? What great sides of beef had we roasted on the smoke-jack, while bacon dangled on hooks, and meat juices basted puddings as light as eggy clouds? Never, in all my ten years at Mawton, had I let that fire die out. Every dawn, in winter or summer, I'd riddled the dying embers and set new kindling on the top. I touched the rough stone and let my cheek press on its everlasting warmth, wishing I could take that loyal fire with me. Foolish, I know, but a fire is a cook's truest friend. It was a good fire at Mawton: blackened with hundreds of years of smoking hot dinners.I think no heathen ever worshipped fire like a cook. So I kissed the smutty hearth wall and packed instead my little tinderbox, to light new fires I knew not where.

Suffering is the fire by which love is tested.

You light the Spark in my Bonfire Heart.

His eyes darted over the surface of my face. Like a moth to a blaze he was hesitant, seeming to crave my warmth but not its inevitable burn. He explored me from a distance with his unspoken desire, with the fear that touching me would set him to flame. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to prove very much the opposite.

If you couldn't sense heat, you'd not be alive. And if that heat never grew uncomfortable, you would never move. And if you were stagnant—unchallenged by unpredictable flares—you would never grow capable of shielding yourself from harsher flames. So yes, life was meant to drag you straight through the fire.

People want incongruous, impossible things.

My heart still speaks of our fire.

Fire is always ready to burn the hand it warms.

Fire wants to burn Water wants to flow Air wants to rise Earth wants to bindChaos wants to devourCal wants to live

They're terrified of us Firefly, all of them are.""Well, good," I replied, forming a tiny ball of flames in my fingertips, which were curled round the handle on the back of the bike. "They should be.

LED lighting has its place: cold, detached, hollow places like office buildings, factories, fast food chains and public schools - places full of humans but no human emotions. LED lighting really belongs in the apathy of the digital age, where science and technology rules over friendship, love and freedom. Incandescent light bulbs have a warm yellow-orange glow like the glow of a nice fireplace, where friends and family might sit and talk together or where children might open Christmas presents, a glow that can project celluloid films and bring back old memories, a glow that can light the text of a paperback novel. Something that beautiful, with that much power, could never last very long in a time as depressing and uncertain as the 21st century.

I have always been a fire, and everyone I loved walked away as ashes, until I met a phoenix who was born to love flames.

H--‐how did we get in the water?”“You were burning. I needed to do something to cool you. As soon as I carried you in, though, you started flailing around. Scared me,” he added on a whisper.That explained the dream. But it didn’t change what she knew was coming. She pressed her face against his neck and drew in the sweet scent of his skin. Loved the rasp of his stubbly cheek against her flesh.“Why do I get the feeling you’re holding something back?” he asked softly.Because he was smart. And because even in the short amount of time they’d been together, he’d learned more about her than anyone else in her entire life. “I believe in signs. I never did before but…I dreamed about you.”“You did?”She nodded. “I think I have for a while, I just…I didn’t know it was you. But now…”She swallowed hard. “I should have waited for you. It’s the biggest regret I have. I’m sorry I didn’t wait.

And a special thanks for not burning up the whole ship. Including yourself, you daft bum-rag.

Stop setting yourself on fire for people who just stand to watch you burn.

An open flask of industrial liquid gas that is venting into the indoor environment should be thought of as the same as a smoldering fire, as they both create a dangerous oxygen deficient environment for the human.

I love you so much I could burst into flames.

When Jesus enters a place revival fire begins.

Great! He has indigestion, so let's torture him with cake.

A spark of every fire we seek is already within us.

She held out her hand, like a man. He hesitated, then took the hand and shook it. It was very warm. You could not help but be aware of the wild passage of blood on the other side of its wall, veins, capillaries, sweat glands, tiny factories in the throes of complicated manufacture. [He] looked at the eyes and, knowing how eyes worked, was astonished, not for the first time, at the infinite complexity of Creation, wondering how this thing, this instrument for seeing, could transmit so clearly its entreaty while at the same time—-Look, I am only an eye—-denying that it was doing anything of the sort.

I want to tell the rebels that I am alive. That I'm right here in District Eight, where the Capitol has just bombed a hospital full of unarmed men, women and children. There will be no survivors." The shock I've been feeling begins to give way to fury. "I want to tell people that if you think for one second the Capitol will treat us fairly if there's a cease-fire, you're deluding yourself. Because you know who they are and what they do." My hands go out automatically, as if to indicate the whole horror around me. "This is what they do and we must fight back!""President Snow says he's sending a message. Well I have one for him. You can torture us and bomb and burn our districts to the ground, but do you see that?" One of the cameras follows where I point to the planes burning on the roof of a warehouse across from us. "Fire is catching!" I am shouting now, determined he will not miss a word of it, "And if we burn, you burn with us!

At the end of her life she was aware of heat but not pain. She had time to consider his eyes, eyes of that blue which is the color of the sky at first light of the morning. She had time to think of him on the Drop, riding Rusher flat out with his black hair flying back from his temples and his neckerchief rippling; to see him laughing with an ease and freedom he would never find again in the long life which stretched out for him beyond hers, and it was his laughter she took with her as she went out, fleeing the light and heat in to the silkly, consoling dark, calling to him over and over as she went, calling bird and bear and hare and fish.

There isn't a simple person anywhere in this world.

The books in the library were old, rotted, and there was no one left in the world to read them, but Kira made sure that none of them went into the fire. It seemed wrong.

Money is like fire. It is only good when there's just the right amount of it, when it's properly contained and under your control.

Ice can kill as dead as fire.

Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire.

Your red dress,’ she said, and laughed.But I looked at the dress on the floor and it was as if the fire had spread across the room. It was beautiful and it reminded me of something I must do. I will remember I thought. I will remember quite soon now.

Love is when you start denying all the definitions it was given before and you start finding your own. It is when the other person craves to see your bare soul more than your bare skin. It is something that happens between souls, where the touch of their fingers on your skin lits fire to your soul and destroys you in the most beautiful way possible and makes you end up craving to be destroyed even more.

Any cat may stare into a fire and see red mice play,

Do not give them a candle to light the way, teach them how to make fire instead. That is the meaning of enlightenment.

Not everything set on fire will rise.

He could have set fire to it, the garden was dry enough, and burned it clean—privet, vines, and weeds; but he waited in his rooms through the winter instead, weeping and dreaming.

A fire, if it is large enough, is not easily contained. Sparks fly out, and the wind carries them in all directions. Like its brothers, the fire...in Mirusia’s heart spewed forth sparks, and, without her consciously realizing what was happening, they began to ignite that which had no reason to be burned.

The hero was the sort of character you could feel yourself falling in love with, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that he wasn't real

Jimmy: One day, when I'm no longer spending my days running a sweet-stall, I may write a book about us all. It's all here. (slapping his forehead) Written in flames a mile high. And it won't be recollected in tranquillity either, picking daffodils with Auntie Wordsworth. It'll be recollected in fire, and blood. My blood.

The fire outside is so powerful to bring warmth inside.

If ever again we happened to lose our balance, just when sleepwalking through the same dream on the brink of hell’s valley, if ever the magical mare (whom I ride through the night air hollowed out into caverns and caves where wild animals live) in a crazy fit of anger over some word I might have said without the perfect sweetness that works on her like a charm, if ever the magic Mare looks over her shoulder and whinnies: “So! You don’t love me!” and bucks me off, sends me flying to the hyenas, if ever the paper ladder that I climb so easily to go pick stars for Promethea—at the very instant that I reach out my hand and it smells like fresh new moon, so good, it makes you believe in god’s genius—if ever at that very instant my ladder catches fire—because it is so fragile, all it would take is someone’s brushing against it tactlessly and all that would be left is ashes—if ever I had the dreadful luck again to find myself falling screaming down into the cruel guts of separation, and emptying all my being of hope, down to the last milligram of hope, until I am able to melt into the pure blackness of the abyss and be no more than night and a death rattle,I would really rather not be tumbling around without my pencil and paper.

I know we promised Haymitch, we'd do exactly what they said, but I don't think he considered this angle.' 'Where is Haymitch, anyway? Isn't he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?' says Peeta. 'With all that alcohol in him, it's probably not advisable to have him around an open flame,' I say.

I don't know if it was the cold sincerity in my voice or the shock of being straddled by a wild, mud covered woman, but he didn't try to argue. "Give me your ring. Now.

Well my gun fires seven different shades of shit, so what's your favorite color, punk?

A fire burns with crackles at first, then loses its intensity; the same goes for love. But remember, that even the dying out fire can keep a room alight.

You kissed me that morning as if you’d never done it before and never would again and now I write another letter that I will never dare to send, collecting memories of loss like chains tight around my chest,and if you see a fire from the shore tonightit’s my chains going up in flames.

Though it’s reasons to burn may vary... you are always the fuel of my fire.

What fire joins none man can put aside,

Chained inside the carriage is a sinful woman. When we set the carriage afire, her flesh will be roasted, her bones will be charred: she will die an agonizing death. Never again will you have such a perfect model for the screen. Do not fail to watch as her snow-white flesh erupts in flames. See and remember her long black hair dancing in a whirl of sparks!

Pushing magic toward the candle, I willed it to light. Nothing happened.Irys made a strangled sound and the candle burned. “Are you directing your magic to the candle?”“Yes. W

When at last we have to die it will be time enough to get cold.While we are on fire let us seethe and boil.

For the briefest of instants, a miles-wide hole appeared from the middle of the Earth to the top of the sky. The Moho rang like a tuning fork in harmonic response to the billion megaton impact. Seismic waves propagated in all directions, some dampening as normal, others amplified harmonically as Earth’s interior quivered like a bowl of pudding. Seismometers spiked wildly, their needles bouncing back and forth like pin-balls.A billion megatons exploded outward from the depths of the quivering Moho blasting a crater eighty-five miles in diameter and spewing billions of tons of superheated rock twelve hundred miles into space. In the blink of an eye the Earth grew a tail, as a mushroom cloud visible from Mars formed and spread, black as the Devil's eye.

I must freeze my heart to the one person who insists on setting it ablaze.

There's nothing wrong with the fire.. if you don't get too close. - Patch

We almost made love with fire, fire in our eyes, fire in our souls, and even in our bones.