Quotes About Fire

Living and dying we feed the fire," Steep said softly. "That is the melancholy truth of things.

Iceland, the land of frost and fire, rugged glaciers and smoldering volcanoes

most words for ghost are pieces of mica that carefully layered will make a window out of fire. It's cold and the faces at the window do what faces usually do they open onto a genetic history that looks up suddenly and it's the eyes everyone says you can't say that's not alive

The dark laminated strands heaved, separated and became fiery filaments, then grey stamens of ash upon a glowing corolla.

The almanac had a strange, soapy smell and made a cracking noise like fire as she turned the pages. She'd never been the first person to open a book.

Liquid fire was the very blood of the earth. It was his mission to upset, mash, and draw out the metal into the useful things that made society operate: nails, horseshoes, plows, knives, guns. Chains. Working the spirit, he called it.

George sawed with his fiddle, the notes swirling up into night like sparks gusted from a fire.

They have no idea the fierceness that lurks within your petite frame.

The fire had burnt so low that it was only a vague red glow in the night...out of the dark his voice came...

Agnosco veteris vestigia flammae.

His heart beat high for war and he blazed with an implacable fire which needed no kindling.

do the gods light this fire in our hearts 220 or does each man's mad desire become his god?

Non fugis hinc praeceps, dum praecipitare potestas? Iam mare turbari trabibus, saevasque videbis conlucere faces, iam fervere litora flammis, si te his attigerit terris Aurora morantem.

Orlando was unaccountably disappointed. She had thought of literature all these years (her seclusion, her rank, her sex must be her excuse) as something wild as the wind, hot as fire, swift as lightning; something errant, incalculable, abrupt, and behold, literature was an elderly gentleman in a grey suit talking about duchesses.

Our hands touch, our bodies burst into fire. The chair, the cup, the table-nothing remains unlit. All quivers, all kindles, all burns clear.

AÅŸa-numita persoan? deprimat? care încearc? s? se sinucid? nu face asta din disperare sau din vreo convingere abstract?. Åži nici pentru c? dintr-o dat? ideea de a muri îi devine atr?g?toare. Persoana a c?rei agonie invizibl? a atins un nivel insuportabil se va sinucide la fel cum o persoan? va alege s? sar? de la fereastra unei înc?peri cuprinse de fl?c?ri.

But the room was empty. The fire was still blazing; the chairs, drawn out in a circle, still seemed to hold the skeleton of the party in their empty arms.

The fire that warms us can also consume us; it is not the fault of the fire.

Here, I'll tell you—with my love I could have filled ten centuries of fire, songs, and valour—ten whole centuries, enormous and winged,—full of knights riding up blazing hills—and legends about giants—and fierce Troys—and orange sails—and pirates—and poets.

GeçmiÅŸ en soylu yakacakt?r.

Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly.

Suddenly the sun was up. It sparkled like a dewy foam across the field of weeds. Master Sun! Honor and respect, Master Sun! We black men greet you with a swirl of hoes snatching bright sparks of fire from the sky.

You are pure flame. I touch you and I ignite. I kiss you and I burn to have more. You consume me… like no other woman before you, and, I am certain, like no other ever could again.

Rolling orange fire silhouetted him from behind, backlighting the warrior's broad shoulders and casual, long-legged stride. As he strolled away from the inferno, the ends of his loose black coat winged out behind him like a cape befitting the prince of darkness himself. "Holy hell," Brock murmured. "Tegan.