Quotes About Fire

This is not what death should be. Death, the reason for religion, the subject of great literature, the certainty we spend our lives warding off, the giant mystery that looms over everything we do, death should be spectacular, not pity-inducing, a bang and not a whimper. A huge ball of fire, a shower of sparks, a final charge into the ranks of your enemies, a terrific explosion, a backward dive into the fiery pit. Not. . .this.

Our thoughts are clay, they are moulded with the changes of the days;--when we are resting they are good; under fire, they are dead. Fields of craters within and without.

Mes gavome dovan? ugn?, nes mumyse buvo kažkas dieviško. O dabar mes slepiame j?, nes žudome savyje t? dievišk? dalelyt?.

Fires were still raging all over the place; some of the larger buildings were mere skeletons, and many of the smaller houses had been reduced to piles of rubble." He was struck in particular by the sight of paper Union Jacks planted in mounds of shattered lumber and brick. These, he wrote, "brought a lump to one's throat.

With the onset of winter Burnham ordered all hydrants packed in horse manure to prevent freezing. On the coldest days the manure steamed, as if the hydrants themselves were on fire.

After one raid set London's Natural History Museum on fire, water from firemen's hoses caused seeds in its collection to germinate, among them those from an ancient Persian silk tree, or mimosa—Albizia julibrissin. The seeds were said to be 147 years old.

Be the kind of people that have enough passion to change the world. If we let ourselves be fire, thunder, or lightning, we could alter everything.

La pasión es el combustible que produce urgencia.

Conozco las estrellas por memorias, los ejércitos de la noche, y hay en la delantera los que nos traen la nieve o los cultivos de verano, nos traen todo lo que tenemos (...) los conozco cuando se levantan y cuando caen... y ahora veo la luz, la señal del fuego saliendo (...). Por lo tanto, ella ordena, llana de grandes esperanzas.

The romantics refuse a life without passion; they

A whole tree of lightning stood in the sky. She kept looking out the window, suffused with the warmth from the fire and with the pity and beauty and power of her death. The thunder rolled.

But at the next flare a big tree on the hill seemed to turn into fire before their eyes, every branch, twig, and leaf, and a purple cloud hung over it. 'Did you hear that crack?' asked Robbie Bell. 'That were its bones.' 'Why do you little niggers talk so much!' said Doc. 'Nobody's profiting by this information.' 'We always talks this much,' said Sam, 'but now everybody so quiet, they hears us.' (The Wide Net)

This same thing happens too, I think, in one of the most profound and important scenes in all of literature: Moses before the burning bush. Like autumn, the bush contains life-and-death in a single eternal process, the growing bush never consumed by the destructive fire that never dies. Like autumn, the bush, when Moses looks at it, reveals itself to be a person: I AM.

And while he was speaking, did we not feel our hearts burning within us?

There's an intelligence there, a raging fire of curiosity.

When excited by any violent passion his face assumed a … terrible expression … his eyes flashed fire; his nostrils dilated, swollen with the inner storm … He seemed to be able to control at will these explosions, which, by the way, as time went on, became less and less frequent. His head remained cool … When in good humour, or when anxious to please, his expression was sweet and caressing, and his face was lighted up by a most beautiful smile.38

A baptism of fire, the Witcher thought, furiously striking and parrying blows. I was meant to pass through fire for Ciri. And I'm passing through fire in a battle which is of no interest to me at all. Which I don't understand in any way. The fire that was meant to purify me is just scorching my hair and face.

Krew na twoich r?kach, Falka, krew na twej sukience P?o?, p?o?, Falka, za twe zbrodnie Sp?o? i skonaj w m?ce!

A sense of guilt, as well as the need for expiation, a baptism of fire, aren't things you can claim an exclusive right to. Life differs from banking because it has debts which are paid off by running up debt with others.

La tua spedizione ha un fine personale e privato, anzi è il carattere di questo fine a richiedere che tu lo realizzi da solo, personalmente. Il rischio, la minaccia, la fatica, la lotta con la disperazione devono gravare solo ed esclusivamente su di te. Perché fanno parte della penitenza e del riscatto della colpa che stai perseguendo. Una sorta di battesimo del fuoco direi. Passerai attraverso il fuoco, che brucia ma al tempo stesso purifica.

You'll pass through fire, which burns, but also purges. And you'll do it alone. For were someone to support you in this, help you, take on even a scrap of that baptism of fire, that pain, that penance, they would, by the same token, impoverish you. They would deprive you of part of the expiation you desire, which would be owed to them for their involvement.

Il terrore, il terrore corre attraverso il villaggio. Inseguiti o inseguitori? Folli e crudeli per rabbia o paura? Passeranno al galoppo senza frenare i cavalli? O ben presto la notte sarà rischiarata dal fuoco dei tetti in fiamme? Zitti, zitti, bambini... Mamma, sono demoni? O è la Caccia Selvaggia? Spettri dell'inferno? Mamma, mamma! Zitti, zitti, bambini. Non sono demoni, non sono diavoli... Peggio. Sono uomini.

La medianoche se acerca, el fuego se marchita. Me quedaré un rato todavía, siempre me salen mejor las rimas junto a un fuego que se apaga.

The priceless writing from the Dark Ages burned with a tall, bright flame. For a few short moments the centuries spoke with the soft whisper of paper blackening in the fire. And then the flame went out and darkness covered the earth.