Quotes About Burn

I only need repent, they say, and I will go to heaven and live for evermore in the blessed company of the saints. And I would rather burn till time itself burns out.

It is the nature of the earth to shift. It is the nature of fragile things to break. It is the nature of fire to burn.

When a fool does evil work, he forgets that he is lighting a fire wherein he must burn one day.

In Australia, the dawn is an arsonist who pours petrol along the horizon, throws a match on it and watches it burn.

My fear is dying badly, through illness or injury. But what a glorious demise it would be to burn up in space.

Across from me, Taylor was openly crying now. Her sobs were muffled by the silver gag but I could see the scarlet tears running down her cheeks. Her eyes were fixed on the fresh burn on my cheek and I knew she shared my pain. A fresh surge of love and protectiveness washed over me.

My revolution is Connection not consumption Passion not profit Orgasm not ownership My revolution is of the earth and will come from her For her because of her It understands that every time we frack of drill Or burn or violate the layers of her sacredness We violate the soul of our future

Here we are! Shooting stars. Shooting stars? They burn. Fleeting glimpse. We become human as we fall.

Everyone understands the pain that accompanies death, but genuine pain doesn't live in the spirit, nor in the air, nor in our lives, nor on these terraces of billowing smoke. The genuine pain that keeps everything awake is a tiny, infinite burn on the innocent eyes of other systems.

El verdadero dolor que mantiene despiertas las cosas es una pequeña quemadura infinita

I have never even seen a witch, let alone felt the need to burn one to death. We can conclude, then, that our forefathers, equipped with the knowledge that supernatural explanations were reasonable, rounded up all the witches in existence and took care of them. The other possibility is that there are witches out there, hiding somewhere, plotting their revenge, liberally applying fireproofing compounds to themselves. And someday they may reappear and start causing trouble.

Letters are just pieces of paper, I said. Burn them, and what stays in your heart will stay; keep them, and what vanishes will vanish.

If self-absorption, vague yearnings, and a nagging sense of incompleteness are sins, then surely I will burn for all eternity, and I will save you a seat.

There's a sin, a fearful sin, resting on this nation, that will not go unpunished forever. There will be a reckoning yet. . . there's a day coming that will burn as an oven. It may be sooner or it may be later, but it's a coming as sure as the Lord is just.

There's a sin, a fearful sin, resting on this nation, that will not go unpunished forever. There will be a reckoning yet—yes, Epps, there's a day coming that will burn as an oven. It may be sooner or it may be later, but it's a coming as sure as the Lord is just.

Who knows the life which does not burn its own time moments?

Love is the key we must turn, truth is the flame we must burn.

The truth is straight ahead, so don't burn yourself instead.

Money, is just paper that will burn with the judgement, but a mindset for the truth, is like a fountain of waters that will carry them through.

Swallow future Spit out hope Burn your face Upon the chrome

Here's the sting of livingness. He's back after his nightly voyage of sleep, all clarity and purpose; he's renewed his citizenship in the world of people who strive and connect, people who mean business, people who burn and want, who remember everything, who walk lucid and unafraid.

The genius inside a person wants activity. It's connected to the stars; it's connected to a spark and it wants to burn and it wants to make and it wants to create and it has gifts to give. That is the nature of inner genius.

Savagery in the quest for power is older than the Bible, but some of my opponents really hate my guts. They don't just want to run me out of office. They won't be satisfied unless I'm sent to prison, drawn and quartered, and erased from the history books. Hell, if they had their way, they'd probably burn down my house in North Carolina and spit on my wife's grave.

Poetry, I feel, is a tyrannical discipline. You've got to go so far, so fast, in such a small space that you've just got to burn away all the peripherals