Quotes About Flame

Justin Martyr explained the distinction and the sameness of the Father and the Son with the analogy of a candle. The flame can pass from one candle to another without changing in quality or diminishing the first.

There have always been a few Initiates in each generation, in the various lands of the earth, who kept alive the sacred flame of the Hermetic Teachings, and such have always been willing to use their lamps to re-light the lesser lamps of the outside world, when the light of truth grew dim, and clouded by reason of neglect, and when the wicks became clogged with foreign matter.

Stick Boy liked Match Girl, He liked her a lot. He liked her cute figure, he thought she was hot. But could a flame ever burn for a match and a stick? It did quite literally; he burned up quick.

El fuego original y primordial, la sexualidad, levanta la llama roja del erotismo y ésta, a su vez, sostiene y alza otra llama, azul y trémula: la del amor.

he'd have me wash whatever ingredients were on hand—potatoes, eggplant, lentils, tomatoes, fresh peppers—before meticulously chopping everything up himself and throwing it with a knob of butter into the small pot we'd brought from Gebze. This was then placed on the gas stove over a low flame. It was my responsibility to watch this pot until sunset, making sure its simmering contents didn't stick.

Yes, very sensible... People die of common sense, Dorian, one lost moment at a time. Life is a moment. There is no hereafter. So make it burn always with the hardest flame.

Time is the fire in which we burn. —Delmore Schwartz

The small wad of burning paper drew down to a wisp of flame and then died out leaving a faint pattern for just a moment in the incandescence like the shape of a flower, a molten rose. Then all was dark again.

Even your joy is like a flame coming off of sadness

The moment she entered the room where the man sat alone, waiting intensely, the thrill passed through her, she died in terror, and after the death, a great flame gushed up, obliterating her.

Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost, / No birth, identity, form - no object of the world. / Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing;... / The body, sluggish, aged, cold - the embers left from earlier fires, / The light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again

Terrible in beauty, age, and power, The genius of poets of old lands, As to me directing like flame its eyes, With finger pointing to many immortal songs, And menacing voice, What singest thou? it said, Know'st thou not there is but one theme for ever-enduring bards?

A Phantom arose before me with distrustful aspect, Terrible in beauty, age, and power, The genius of poets of old lands, As to me directing like flame its eyes, With finger pointing to many immortal songs, And menacing voice, What singest thou? it said

The storyteller: he is the man who could let the wick of his life be consumed completely by the gentle flame of his story

If, to use a simile, one views the growing work as a funeral pyre, its commentator can be likened to the chemist, its critic to an alchemist. While the former is left with wood and ashes as the sole objects of his analysis, the latter is concerned only with the enigma of the flame itself: the enigma of being alive. Thus the critic inquires about the truth whose living flame goes on burning over the heavy logs of the past and the light ashes of life gone by.

The storyteller: he is the man who could let the wick of his life be consumed completely by the gentle flame that is his story.

Truth and sincerity have a certain distinguishing native luster about them which cannot be perfectly counterfeited; they are like fire and flame, that cannot be painted." While

I have a burning desire—an inner flame that will not be extinguished by outer forces—to know and live from higher regions, to be transformed so that my new concept of myself will no longer include any limitations. I am willing to challenge and change any thoughts that impede my having a higher vision of myself.

Okay that's it. Now I'm torching this. I just need to score a match.

When she opened her eyes, the outside door was filled with flame. The propane tank by the kitchen could blow any minute. That left the bedroom back window.

El conocimiento… se transmite como la llama de una antorcha, de mente a mente, y esta llama prende fuego tan sólo en las mentes originales. —Charlotte Mason

Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare, And left the flushed print in a poppy there: Like a yawn of fire from the grass it came, And the fanning wind puffed it to flapping flame...

...the darkness of the hollow in the centre of a wild rose is one glow of orange fire...

People tell me that the countryside must always be stupid and backward, and I get angry, as if it were said that only townspeople had immortal souls, and it was only in the city that the flame of divinity breathed into the first men had any unobscured glow.