Quotes About Fire

Hot punch is a pleasant thing, gentlemen---an extremely pleasant thing under any circumstances---but in that snug old parlour, before the roaring fire, with the wind blowing outside till every timber in the old house creaked again, Tom Smart found it perfectly delightful.

So-ho!" the guard sang out, as loud as he could roar. "Yo there! Stand! I shall fire!" The pace was suddenly

Superstitious, darling Little Dorrit? Is it a charm?' 'It is anything you like best, my own,' she answered, laughing with glistening eyes and standing on tiptoe to kiss him, 'if you will only humour me when the fire burns up.

It is anything you like best, my own,' she answered, laughing with glistening eyes and standing on tiptoe to kiss him, 'if you will only humour me when the fire burns up.

There with the wood-fire, which was beginning to burn low, rising and falling upon him in the dark room, he sat with his legs thrust out to warm, drinking the hot wine down to the lees, with a monstrous shadow imitating him on the wall and ceiling.

He looked about him in a confused way, as if he had lost his place in the book of his remembrance; and he turned his face to the fire, and spread his hands broader on his knees, and lifted them off and put them on again.

The clerk in the Tank involuntarily applauded. Becoming immediately sensible of the impropriety, he poked the fire, and extinguished the last frail spark for ever.

Old Clem! With a thump and a sound – Old Clem! Beat it out, beat it out – Old Clem! With a clink for the stout – Old Clem! Blow the fire, blow the fire – Old Clem! Roaring dryer, soaring higher – Old Clem!

Light 'em up again!' said Mr Meagles.

But his youthful fire was all composed of sparks from the grindstone; and as the sparks flew off, went out, and never warmed anything ...

He was very obliging, and as he handed me into a fly after superintending the removal of my boxes, I asked him whether there was a great fire anywhere? For the streets were so full of dense brown smoke that scarcely anything was to be seen. "Oh, dear no, miss," he said. "This is a London particular." I had never heard of such a thing.

To poke a wood fire is more solid enjoyment than almost anything else in the world.

snowflakes fall from the sky in peppermint perfection — i kiss you with quivering lips but cold is not the reason — you set my winter heart on fire and keep me warm all season

By the time I have money to burn, my fire will have burnt out.

Passion is oxygen for the soul.

But the glory of the United States must rest and has rested upon a firmer foundation than that of her purely material resources. It is the love of country that has lighted and that keeps glowing the holy fire of patriotism.

A poet is a storm with a pen — splattering swashes of ink across the sky in bursts of fervor with words on fire whirling tempest-emblazoned rhyme

the thunder is in our veins the lightning in our very souls

Evenings chilly are, and damp, Early lighted is the lamp; Fire burns, and kettle sings, Smoke ascends in thin blue rings; On the rug the children lie; In the west the soft lights die; From the elms a robin's song Rings out sweetly, lingers long,— In September.

The best way to stop smoking is to carry wet matches.

Solid-steel fire doors had been built into entrances to the public rooms to deal with just such an emergency. It would have taken Hackney only a few moments to isolate the writing room from the rest of B deck by lowering its fire door. Clarence Hackney did not take that preventive measure. Smoke billowed after him as he ran for the telephone near the door connecting the first-class lounge to the smoking room. He dialed the bridge.

But it was futile. Half a dozen hoses under full pressure would have been required to make an impact on the blaze enveloping the writing room. Even if fire crews had brought hoses to bear on the flames, it would have made little difference: the engine room was unable to provide sustained pressure because of the closed boiler.

The Morro Castle traveled 3.1 miles head on into the storm at a speed of 18.8 knots for over ten minutes. In that time, the wind, gusting at over 20 knots, had acted as a giant bellows, fanning and speeding the flames the length of the ship.

At 5:29:45, everything happened at once. But it was too fast for the watchers to distinguish: no human eye can separate millionths of a second; no human brain can record such a fraction of time. No one, therefore, saw the actual first flash of cosmic fire. What they saw was its dazzling reflection on surrounding hills. It was, in the words of the observer from The New York Times: