Quotes About Fire

Perhaps, I muse, this is the pace at which the Creator thinks, in this weighty, graceful, liquid manner—like blood flows, not like synapses fire.

In the month of red leaves I climb to a bed of fire.

brave love, dream not of staunching such strict flame, but come, lean to my wound; burn on, burn on.

The dove descending breaks the air With flame of incandescent terror Of which the tongues declare The one discharge from sin and error. The only hope, or else despair Lies in the choice of pyre or pyre- To be redeemed from fire by fire. Who then devised the torment? Love. Love is the unfamiliar Name Behind the hands that wove The intolerable shirt of flame Which human power cannot remove. We only live, only suspire Consumed by either fire or fire.

Quick now, here, now, always- A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one.

What the dead had no speech for, when living, They can tell you, being dead: the communication Of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.

the communication/of the dead is tongued with fire beyond/the language of the living--The Little Gidding

the communication Of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.

He is maintaining substantially the same theory as that of Purgatorio XVIII: "Then, even as fire moves upward by reason of its form, whose nature it is to ascend, there where it endures longest in its material; so the enamoured mind falls to desire, which is a spiritual movement, and never rests until the object of its love makes it rejoice".

Perhaps a heart was indeed like a piece of dry birchwood, and could only take fire and burn brightly once—that any fire that came after would be only an ember, smaller and cooler.

It was an awkward moment. We were burning down our host's house, a situation which any guest seeks to avoid.

Without reading, we are all without light in the dark, without fire in the cold.

Gods of fire and ice, bless my new home, she whispered in Yamani. Keep my will burning as hot as the heart of the volcano, and as hard and implacable as a glacier.

Fleur de feu. Oh flower of fire. That fire is not hate or fear, which makes flowers come, not terror or anger or lust, it is love that is the fire of the Bite-Me-Not, love which cannot abandon, love which cannot harm. Love which never dies.

There were no windows in the stone room, but light came from a tasteful arrangement of seven human skulls hung from the ceiling on an iron chain with candles burning in them. There was also a low fire buzzing on an open hearth. In its sombre red glare, less bright yet more widespread and descriptive than the glow of the skull lamps, unknown objects winked on the walls-bone things, metal things-and symbols drawn there in yellow and white clay seemed to dart, disintegrate and reassamble.

Cold enough to burn, she was yet his dutiful wife.

It was the visage of a skull, draped by a transparent shroud of skin, except for the colors which the fire painted on it, now amber, now turquoise, and now the greenest jade.

Shaina got to her feet and clenched her hands. Her eyes, chestnut-colored, almost copper in the fire gloom, were wide and full of hunger, but her mouth was set.

The features of the face suggested strangeness, in a manner that owed nothing to their composition, which was quite ordinary. It was a clever face, and strong, but its cleverness and strength had nothing to do with the world. This man might walk through beauty or filth, through fire or flood or anguish, and not notice it, or at least not suffer it, for his brain was in constant flight, negotiating some other plain beyond all physical things.

And like a cat in winter at a fire She could not edge close enough To what singed her, and would burn her.

Laws of silence don't work.... When something is festering in your memory or your imagination, laws of silence don't work, it's just like shutting a door and locking it on a house on fire in hope of forgetting that the house is burning. But not facing a fire doesn't put it out. Silence about a thing just magnifies it. It grows and festers in silence, becomes malignant....

When something is Festering on your memory or in your imagination, laws of silence don't work, it's just like shutting a door and locking it on a house on fire in hope of forgetting that the house is burning. But not facing a fire doesn't put it out. Silence about a thing just magnifies it. It grows and festers in silence, becomes malignant...

Edwina probably wouldn"t notice if her bed caught on fire while she was reading a book.

That much was also true. Edwina probably wouldn"t notice if her bed caught on fire while she was reading a book.