Quotes About Flame

Definitely an intelligence in the light of the heart. In yoga, we refer to this as the heart center - right behind the breastbone, and visualize it as a golden candle flame of light and spirit.

Il était étendu comme crucifié. Il ne bougeait plus, mais il avait les yeux ouverts et, le regard de ces yeux, je ne l'oublierai jamais plus, même si je dure autant que Mathusalem. Sous sa barbe, il était pâle comme la mort. La flamme au poing, je le regardai : il était sur sa croix !

The walls inside were charred from some ancient fire, blackened and lichened and weathered hard, smelling faintly of a smoke so old there may be no one still alive who could possibly remember the flame.

chaque jour à mon âme tu ajoutes une flamme des fleurs à ma corbeille un rai à mon soleil

Morning is when the wick is lit. A flame ignited, the day delighted with heat and light, we start the fight for something more than before.

There shall be a fire that knows your name, and in the presence of the strangling fruit, its dark flame shall acquire every part of you. *

In his diary of the summer he wrote: " 'He makes His ministers a flame of fire.' Am I ignitable? God deliver me from the dread asbestos of 'other things.' Saturate me with the oil of the Spirit that I may be a flame. But flame is transient, often short-lived. Canst thou bear this, my soul—short life? In me there dwells the Spirit of the Great Short-Lived, whose zeal for God's house consumed Him. 'Make me Thy Fuel, Flame of God.

Now it sprang up again, that little bright flame that had driven her to apply to the Academy in the first place. Danger ignited it - ignited her - the way nothing else could do.

And Time, a maniac scattering dust,And Life, a Fury slinging flame.

Ah God, that love were as a flower or flame, That life were as the naming of a name, That death were not more pitiful than desire, That these things were not one thing and the same!

Els ocells visiten els arbres sense fulles, però no sense fulles com a l'hivern; ara les branques s'enrigideixen, les puntes dels branquillons resplendeixen com la flama d'una espelma.

As he kindled a flame with his flint, Maerad saw that Cadvan had his own face back again. "Cadvan!" she said. He looked up in surprise. "You're back!" "And so are you," he said, squinting through the darkness. "I may say, it's some improvement. I was a little too convincing in making you an idiot boy.

You don't want flame to hit your food. Flame is bad. Flame does nasty things to food. It makes soot and it makes deposits of various chemicals that are not too good for us. The last thing you really want to see licking at your food while it's on a grill is an actual flame.

Having a weapon like that means you're pretty much in control of events. Nobody's going to argue with a flaming sword.

Talent is a flame. Genius is a fire.

What escapes you, never leaves you. Everything is a journey of trust. You have to have the kind of faith the flame has for the candle, that the bird has for its wings. Otherwise, our words have no destinations. Otherwise, our words are snakes that swallow our souls. —Richard Jackson, from "Isaac's Consent," Out of Place: Poems (Ashland Poetry Press, 2014)

I clung to that spark of hope, nurturing it into a small flame that chased some of the shadows in my heart away.

See? There it is again. My flame in the dark.

Love is..." An old memory with Adrian came back to me, and some of the turbulent emotion I always carried within me these days welled up in my chest. It was stupid, feeling so lovesick when he'd been gone less than a day, but I couldn't get him or the ways he described love out of my head. "... a flame in the dark. A breath of warmth on a winter's night. A star that guides you home.

Love is a flame in the dark. A breath of warmth on a winter's night. A star that guides you home.

standing there in that glittering dress and wielding flame like some sort of avenging goddess.

The Sonnets to Orpheus, Part Two, XII Want the change. Be inspired by the flame where everything shines as it disappears. The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much as the curve of the body as it turns away.

Want the change. Be inspired by the flame where everything shines as it disappears. The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much as the curve of a body as it turns away.

One knows that a god is in the temple when, after contemplating the coherence of the structure, one is seized, violently, by the power and beauty of it, as by a light or flame or an effulgence. This illumination is a discharge of compressed energy and information.