Quotes About Fire

A little before noon I sent orders to all my batteries to open fire through the streets or at any points where the troops were seen about the city, as a diversion in favor of Jackson.

Nothing would make me happier if people got curious enough to actually go online to and start looking and researching the Apollo 1 fire... That would be amazing to me if people would actually go through the trouble to figure that stuff out.

If there's a fire, I want to be there. Maybe because in being so close to death, I think I understand what it means to be truly alive.

A Trump administration will take on this fight and send a clear message to the Islamist terrorists: you may have fired the first shot, but rest assured, America will fire the last.

The thornbush is the old obstacle in the road. It must catch fire if you want to go further.

Enough of these phrases, conceit and metaphors, I want burning, burning, burning.

I have taken this step because I want the discipline, the fire and the authority of the Church. I am hopelessly unworthy of it, but I hope to become worthy.

Anyway that other thing we almost did in Paris-that's probably off the table for a while.Unless you want that whole baby-I'm-on-fire-when-we kiss thing to become freakishly literal

Where in the world did you get that dress?" "Present from Zu." "You look like you want to throw it in a fire." "I can't promise there won't be an unfortunate accident later on.

...if the spell was off, I'd have my heart eaten before I could turn around." "Don't you want your heart eaten?" asked the fire. [...] "Naturally I don't," Sophie answered.

Lying with lovers also belonged to night, and that made sense, for it was in the midst of true darkness that the first fire of life was born, flickering awake to drive back the unchanging absence of light. To lie with a lover was to celebrate the creation of fire. From this in the flesh to the world beyond.

Mammot's body withered beneath the clambering, frenzied attack. Flesh was ripped away, fires lancing, boring holes through him. He was driven to his knees, a vortex swirling like madness around him.

Somewhere above this foul temple, crows danced with sparks above the mouth of a chimney, virtually unseen in the darkness. Each one carried a word, but the sparks were deaf. Too busy with the ecstasy of their own bright, blinding fire. At least, until they went out.

Paran could feel nothing but the white fire of vengeance, filling his mind, coruscating through his body.

The proudest candle vanishes unseen into a raging house-fire, with none to recount the beauty of its delicate glow, or the dignity of its desire.

His heart was vast, it was true. He was a thing of sentimentality and compassion, so contrary to his bestial appearance, his simian fire. But such creatures were vulnerable. Their hearts bled too freely, and the scars never knitted true.

To lie with a lover was to celebrate the creation of fire. From this in the flesh to the world beyond.

he has every confidence in my ability to extricate ourselves from this situation.' 'Glad to hear it,' said Emancipor. 'Uh, exactly how do you plan on doing that, by the way?' 'Well, first of all, I shall set the horses on fire.' 'Oh.

Then the Jaghut said, 'Hanako, I am named Raest.' 'Then welcome, Raest, to our fire.' 'Voice a single jibe, Hanako, and I might have to chop off your head. Just so you understand how this night will play.

from a burning tenement block spread an acrid haze that made breathing tortured. They rode through the silent aftermath of slaughter, when the rage has passed and awareness returns with shock and shame. The moment was a single indrawn breath in what Fiddler knew would be an ever-burgeoning wildfire.

He was not too old, and he had a family—people to fight for, to return to, people that mattered in his life. Those were important things. A necessary pressure, fire for the blood. None of which existed in Gamet's life.

Join us, friend," said Kruppe. "Sit here by this fire: this scene paints the history of our kind, as you well know. A night, a hearth, and a tale to spin…

A good idea is a network. A specific constellation of neurons—thousands of them—fire in sync with each other for the first time in your brain, and an idea pops into your consciousness.

Books are in the holy shape. They are silent and yet they speak directly into the imagination. You can burn them but they are more powerful than fire. All the knowledge of the ancient ones are put into them. The secrets of the age of vision. - Paris, See: Season 1 Ep.2