Quotes About Flame

My books are inert as cordwood till a readers imagination ignites one and an old flame jumps to life.

Psychoanalysis feeds on intensity, as though life were all flame and no ash.

Another secret we carry is that though drab outside - wreckage to the eye, mirrors a mortification - inside we flame with a wild life that is almost incommunicable.

Youth, like a flame, burned ever in his breast, and to youth he turned, to the round little limbs, so reckless, that wanted care, to the small round faces so unreasonably solemn or bright, to the treble tongues, and the shrill, chuckling laughter, to the insistent tugging hands, and the feel of small bodies against his legs, to all that was young and young, and once more young.

put out the candles with your fire—I'm on fire

Djinn," she said. "We go to review the troops. Clothe me as befits a queen." "Silks and satins?" he asked, eyes sparkling like sapphires. "White brocade?" "Armor," she said. "And flame.

Sebastien gasped first at pain like flame, then pleasure, and somehow scraped his hand through the narrow space between David's back and the lid so he could knot his fingers into David's hair. He bit his lip, and did not cry out, while they rode in the lumpy coffin.

From his right eye, Kit could see how the darkness within Oxford seemed fit to devour the fragile, flickering candle flame that was his life.

I AM the violet flame     In action in me now I AM the violet flame     To Light alone I bow I AM the violet flame     In mighty cosmic power I AM the light of God     Shining every hour I AM the violet flame     Blazing like a sun I AM God's sacred power     Freeing every one

Believe me I don't want to set the world on fire I just want to start a flame in your heart

When I was small, my mother told me that moths were butterflies that had been banished to the night, where they lived tortured lives dreaming of the day. In this way she explained why they sacrificed themselves to flame; it was both an end to their suffering and a reunion with the light they longed for. The parable, of course, was meant to warn me against wanting what I should not have.

He knew then how the dull flesh of man can be like fire

Happiness consumes itself like a flame. It cannot burn for ever, it must go out, and the presentiment of its end destroys it at its very peak.

'Fire' is physical and has a lot of grunt to it. I really love that.

Contemplating a flame perpetuates a primordial reverie. It separates us from the world and enlarges our world as dreamers. In itself the flame is a major presence, but being close to it makes us dream of far away, too far away. The flame is there, feeble and tiny, struggling to stay in existence, and the dreamer goes on to dream of elsewhere, losing his own being by dreaming on a grand, on a too grand scale by dreaming of the world.

Life is like a flame that is always burning itself out...

The daylight changes the aspect of misery to us, as of everything else. In the night it presses on our imagination—the forms it takes are false, fitful, exaggerated; in broad day it sickens our sense with the dreary persistence of definite measurable reality. The man who looks with ghastly horror on all his property aflame in the dead of night, has not half the sense of destitution he will have in the morning, when he walks over the ruins lying blackened in the pitiless sunshine.

A blowtorch is a wonderful thing. You can get one of those for about 25 bucks at Home Depot. And there's a ton of things that you can use a blowtorch for, in browning a steak or touching up the browning of a chicken or making creme brulee.

the Spirit comes to us as a fire, either to be fanned into full flame and given the freedom to accomplish his will or to be doused and extinguished by the water of human fear, control, and flawed theology.

lit a fire, and was grateful for its warmth and company.

Rydra, when I look at the night and stars, it is only a passive act, but you are active even watching, and halo the stars with more luminous flame.

All thoughts, all passions, all delights Whatever stirs this mortal frame All are but ministers of Love And feed His sacred flame.

yak?p tüketen ateÅŸler sald?n içime - Çok yaÅŸa! yokluÄŸunda bitmek tükenmek bilmeyen saatlerce yaÅŸa!

I am wild, I will sing to the trees, I will sing to the stars in the sky, I love, I am loved, he is mine, Now at last I can die! I am sandaled with wind and with flame, I have heart-fire and singing to give, I can tread on the grass or the stars, Now at last I can live!