Quotes About Fire

If she's gonna love again, it won't be an eternity but a hard, fast conflagration that leaves everyone else in the embers.

She lit wildfires inside my soul and fanned them with hurricanes.

When it comes to matters of the heart and soul, I'm not a falling kind of girl. I'm more of a slamming, crashing, erupting...

Being friendzoned is like standing near fire. You stand there to seek some warmth, but get burnt instead.

... only a seer or a lover would know that I'm making a jewelry of words for you -drawn from your essence -to flash and burn with your fire -so you can bedazzle with your own light ...

Our love douses us in flames. It's terrible and deep and wingless, but I'll burn here if you burn here too.

A miracle came in the form of a doctor whom her mother knew. He put her in a roasting pan and placed her above a fire to keep her warm.

Love is the fire that warms our lives with unparalleled joy and divine hope. Love should be our walk and our talk.

I fell in love, and she fanned my flames. They spread to soon, Quickly and uncontrollably. I had finally found the one willing to catch fire, side by side, while the world watched us burn.

It was love. It was lust. It was just between us. The passion, the desire, the fire. The way we held on in so little time and his eyes when he saw me for the first time.

So black is my heart for it is buried in the fiery chasm of untameable passion. It beats in the dark recesses of unquenchable thirst for love and desire from which there is no return...

Passion warms up the soup of love cold in the vessel of the soul

Tonight I've set my body on fireI've burned my fingers On your chest and absAnd as the flame Continued consuming me I blew my air kisses All over youUntil I've heard The explosion.

Sadly, there are many forces more powerful and devestating than love... Among them for example, the anger and jealousy of a spurned husband or lover. Fire begets passions, but it also burns.

His love is like an unquenchable fire and He refreshes with living waters. I thirst daily and go to the well to drink and be consumed

On the other hand, fire itself was looked upon as the result (the progeny) of a sexual union: it was born as a result of the to-and-fro motion (compared to copulation) of a stick (representing the male organ), in a notch made in a piece of wood (female organ; cf. Rig Veda III.......)

The domestication of fire—that is, the possibility of producing, preserving, and transporting it—marks, we might say, the definitive separation of the Paleanthropians from their zoological predecessors. The most ancient "document" for the use of fire dates from Choukoutien (about 600,000 B.C.), but its domestication probably took place much earlier and in several places.

A treasure that fire cannot eat. my little secret. I've carried them wrapped in a handkerchief in my bosom through some tight places. Not for nothing do Shamy girls have good boobs.

In the rainy season, back home, when the land had given way to water and the buffaloes grew webbed feet, when the hens took to the roofs, when marooned goats teetered on minuscule islands, when the women splashed across on the raised walkway to the cooking hut and found they could no longer kindle a dung-and-husk fire and looked to their reserves, when the rain rang louder than cow bells

How do you strike fire without flint?" Connla wanted to know.  "The sun has no flints," Blathine replied. "Yet each day it brings fire to warm the earth."  Shaking his head ruefully, Connla said, "I see I will get no simple answers from you."  "There are no simple answers!" she chortled. "How quickly you are learning!

So the fairy silver brought you a monster of fire for a husband, and me a monster of ice. We should put them in a room together and let them make us both widows.

His name tasted of fire and wings, of curling smoke, of subtlety and strength and the rasping whisper of scales.

His name tasted of fire and wings, of curling smoke, of subtlety and strength and the rasping whisper of scales. He eyed me and said stiffly, Don't land yourself into a boiling-pot, and as difficult as you may find it, try and present a respectable appearance.

He roared at me furiously for ten minutes after he finally managed to put out the sulky and determined fire, calling me a witless muttonheaded spawn of pig farmers-My father's a wood-cutter, I said- adOf axe-swinging lummocks! he snarled.