Fire Quotes

He held up a finger and went to the hallway, where he tripped over Blotchy, and then over the two monster cats madly pursuing Blotchy. Swearing, he leaned over the landing and called to the guard that unless the kingdom fell to war or his daughter was dying, he better not be interrupted until further notice.

...this refinement and delicacy were what Cale adored; but Cale had been beaten into shape, hammered in dreadful fires of fear and pain. How could she be with him for long? A secret part of Arbell had been searching for some time for a way to leave her lover—although she was unaware of this, it is only fair to record. And so as Cale waited for her to save him while he worked out a way of saving her, she had already chosen the bitter but reasonable path of the good, of the many over the one...

Suffering is the fire by which love is tested.

You will never overcome your self righteousness if you continue to believe that God prefers you over other people. The moment you feel entitled is the moment you feel superior and distance yourself from a humble heart that believes God knows what he is doing.

My GOD is a consuming fire and He answers by FIRE! His fire surrounds me and burns inside of me. My faith has been tested in the fire. My faith in Him is unwavering, therefore I shall not be moved. I cannot fail because He will NEVER fail me.

We seek the fire of the spark that is already within us.

My heart still speaks of our fire.

But I could control these flames. It was an irresistible urge, one that I didn’t want to ignore. - Aurora

I’m not leaving him, Sam! And I’m not waiting for the others to help.

I often find that people confuse inner peace with some sense of insensibility whenever something goes wrong. In such cases inner peace is a permit for destruction: The unyielding optimist will pretend that the forest is not burning either because he is too lazy or too afraid to go and put the fire out.

Her complexity is a glorious fire that consumes, while her simplicity goes unapproachable. But if one takes time to understand her, there is something beautiful to find, something simple to be loved. But she goes unloved, for being misunderstood.

Even through the smoke,you are still the most beautiful thingin this city and I, well, I am stillthe last thing you’d save in a fire.

I blind myself to see the bright fireplace radiating skin piercing warmth. The yellow illuminating a lonely light that unites with the red to create an ambiance so comforting. They burn and hush, they rise and fall, they breath and devour together in synch; creating a bond, a bond thicker than blood, forged by love and held together by an insurmountable friendship. You cannot separate them, you'll burn. She is red, he is yellow and they are fire

The dove descending breaks the airWith flame of incandescent terrorOf which the tongues declareThe one discharge from sin and error.The only hope, or else despairLies in the choice of pyre or pyre-To be redeemed from fire by fire.Who then devised the torment? Love.Love is the unfamiliar NameBehind the hands that woveThe intolerable shirt of flameWhich human power cannot remove.We only live, only suspireConsumed by either fire or fire.

like our parents alwaystold us not to likefirefighters warn againstwe're playinggames and makingthe rules upas we go we'rematchingwarmth to warmthstarting fires burningwishes into ourskin we're hiddenholdingforbidden lightswe're childrenwhose fathers havenever taught nevertouchbut we're findingthese new flameswe smotherat the sound of footsteps.

Her satellite made one full orbit around Planet Earth every sixteen hours. It was a prison that came with an endlessly breathtaking view— vast blue oceans and swirling clouds and sunrises that set half the world on fire.

red is for fire red is for love too it lies in our hand what we wanna choose...

When people are cruel it's often said that they have no heart, only a cold space or lump of ice in their chest. This was never true of Avalon. She had no heart, everyone knew, but there was nothing cold about her. In her chest burned an enormous coal, white-hot, brighter than the North Star. North knew the truth about Avalon: she was made of fire, and she would burn them all.

The demon at length fell to singing a gentle, flickering little song. It was not in any language Sophie knew - or she thought not, until she distinctly heard the word "saucepan" in it several times...

I forced myself to breathe deeply; perhaps they would have vanished. Perhaps I'd been imagining them because Brae was gone and I was scared without him, and now that he was back I'd feel safe enough again that they would go away. Perhaps it was just paint or something and would have been washed out by the sea spray earlier. I breathed again, feeling much calmer and then, slowly, opened my eyes.

The fire in some people is burning and taking them places. Others have their fire dying slowly because their passion is dwindling. For some, the drive that kept them going is lost, and thus, has extinguished that fire that was once ablaze; they are now waiting for the next opportunity to ignite the fire in them one more time.Others are also at the point where the fire which was once in them has been totally quenched by a heavy rain rendering the source of fuel at their disposal void such that rekindling it becomes impossible.Remember, you are the problem and you are the solution to that problem whichever category you find yourself. Don't look anywhere else for answers as you are the answer to your problems. You ought to start to take steps to get back to the ladder where your flames of success will begin to rekindle. It's possible if only you believe.

Sometimes what’s dead must be burned away to make room for new life. Sometimes you just have to step back and let the brittle bits ignite - but once those flames begin to dance their caustic dance, don’t you dare look the other way. Don’t close your eyes. Watch closely and let that image seer itself forever on your mind. Remember what it looked like in the midst of the soot, the smoke, and the haze. Remember, so you don’t repeat the same conditions that required such a blaze.

They're so broke that they've actually cut essential services. In many places, they've cut policemen, because, who the fuck needs them? Or firemen, son of a bitch, it's much more fun watching something burn down.

Cal stares ahead, as if his eyes alone can set the entire world on fire. I think he wants to. That would make this easier.

Trump didn't divide America. He just doused us with gasoline and fanned the flames.

The judge like a great ponderous djinn stepped through the fire and the flames delivered him up as if he were in some way native to their element.

Squatting on old bones and excrement and rusty iron, in a white blaze of heat, a panorama of naked idiots stretches to the horizon. Complete silence - their speech centres are destroyed - except for the crackle of sparks and the popping of singed flesh as they apply electrodes up and down the spine. White smoke of burning flesh hangs in the motionless air. A group of children have tied an idiot to a post with barbed wire and built a fire between his legs and stand watching with bestial curiosity as the flames lick his thighs. His flesh jerks in the fire with insect agony.

Your powers don't work in the rain do they? A little bit of water and your fire fizzles out? So Little Miss Perfect does have a weakness after all!

Writing is my passion and burns in me like a fire. I'm always writing and honing my skills to feed the flames.

There are people in the world, who are just wrong, and then there are the masses of population that are right, or at the very least they lie in the veil of between. I on the other hand, do not belong to any group. I don’t exist. It’s not that I don’t have substance; I have a body like everyone else. I can feel the fire when it burns against my skin, the rain when it caresses my face and the breeze as it fingers my hair. I have all the senses that other people do. I am just empty, inside.

A child cannot quarrel with its elders, as I had done, cannot give its furious feelings uncontrolled play, as I had given mine, without experiencing afterwards the pang of remorse and the chill of reaction. A ridge of lighted heath, alive, glancing, devouring, would have been a meet emblem of my mind when I accused and menaced Mrs. Reed: the same ridge, black and blasted after the flames are dead, would have represented as meetly my subsequent condition.

My bridled soul leaps under the pressure of desires,Chained i am by this organic-societal form from galloping freeMy mind heaves me to safety,but heart is ready for doom...An all knowing glance pierced deep through my skinSmiling at my ailing and confused form,Invading my senses, feeding them to the eternal fires...

Faith is the light of fire.

Pride. The worst kind of fire. It starts somewhere below the gut, creeps through the liver, climbs quietly up the heart, and moves into the lungs. You never notice it until it’s too late. It’s uncontrollable by the time it gets to the head. There it rages, blowing hot air through the ears. It’s a spiteful hissing above the echoing vacuum between the ears. All thoughts get evicted or burnt. When the fire ceases, only black ashes remain. Imagine. Ashes in your head.

A book, too, can be a star, a living fire to lighten the darkness, leading out into the expanding universe.

Ice is most welcome in a cold drink on a hot day.But in the heart of winter, you want a warm hot mug with your favorite soothing brew to keep the chill away.When you don’t have anything warm at hand, even a memory can be a small substitute.Remember a searing look of intimate eyes.Receive the inner fire.

With faith in God, we can walk through the fires unharmed.

I imagine God creating humans was much like cavemen creating fire… First it sparkles brightly, full of life and beauty. But then it grows, stronger and fiercer until it becomes dangerous and uncontrollable… Then its creator can only stand on the hill and wait for his creation to die.

Cal's eyes flicker, out to the trees. But he's not looking at the leaves. His gaze is in the past, to something more painful. "She killed my true mother as well. And she'll kill all of us if we let her."The words come out hard and harsh, a rusty blade to saw flesh. They taste wonderful in my mouth. "Not if I kill her first."For all his talents, Cal is not a violent person. He can kill you in a thousand different ways, lead an army, burn down a village, but he will not enjoy it. So his next words take me by surprise."When the time comes," he says, staring at me, "we'll flip a coin."His bright flame has grown dark indeed.

Music is often the spark that lights the fire of the soul.

Sex should be about mutual enjoyment, connection, the borrowing from another’s fire at a moment when you want it most.

Hey, Alec," he said.The man was on his hands and knees, leaning his face into the middle of a bush; he grunted something that kind of sounded like a "Yeah?""Why are we spending so much time on this side of where we left them?"Alec pulled himself out of the bush and looked back at him. "Seemed logical. I'd think they either followed us out of here to find us, or they were taken by the same yahoos who attacked us. Or... maybe they went to investigate the fire."Mark thought that was all barking up the wrong tree. "Or they ran away from the fire. Not every person on earth is as wacky-brained as you, good sir. Most people see a huge roaring inferno coming at them? They decide to cut and run. Just saying.

They surrounded him here, but beyond, flames licked the cabins, the incendiary glow striking a similar spark inside him from the injustice they’d faced tonight.

Your horse is named Small.Yes.Mine is named Big.-Fire and Brigan

You light the Spark in my Bonfire Heart.

Life is warmth and warmth is fire, and fire is God's and God's alone.

If she was suggesting she was too wise with the weight of her experience to fall prey to infatuation - well, the disproof was sitting before her in the form of a gray-eyed prince with a thoughtful set to his mouth that she found quite distracting.”Fire, Kristin Cashore“If she was suggesting she was too wise with the weight of her experience to fall prey to infatuation - well, the disproof was sitting before her in the form of a gray-eyed prince with a thoughtful set to his mouth that she found quite distracting.

Assuming what people want is about as controlled as using fireworks to start a fire.

Still, perhaps that's all lives are, all the world is, a collision of vast conflagrations, each sparked from nothing.

He closed his eyes for a moment and pulled at the fragments of the elements to light the torches hanging at the pillars on either side of him. The fire did little to warm the night, but Kaustab found its presence reassuring, the flickering blue flames danced and sparred with the shadows on the walls, a battle that the fire couldn’t win.

And a special thanks for not burning up the whole ship. Including yourself, you daft bum-rag.

Fire will run like poetry through your blood.

I ran then, following the power, ran with joy and a wild, winging certainty, right into the hearth of everything I loved.And there was no earth, no cold, no dust, nor stones nor water rushing past; but only this joy, this singing, awesome flight straight into the soul of God.Into fire.

When you have been burned by fire once, you don't leap into the flames again.

Requiring neither wood nor urns,Inside me is a fire that burns;Advising me to never accept defeat,The blessed fruit of hope it churns!

Fire wants to burn Water wants to flow Air wants to rise Earth wants to bindChaos wants to devourCal wants to live

Kurt pick his way around testing for heat before taking each step and avoiding places where the ash was heaps up.

Any technological advance can be dangerous. Fire was dangerous from the start, and so (even more so) was speech - and both are still dangerous to this day - but human beings would not be human without them.

Dawn raced like fire across the savanna.

Her eyes fluttered open. She was lying in Sylvain's lap, his arms tight around her. She reached up and touched his face wonderingly."Why are you crying?" she whispered.He didn't answer. Instead he rocked her like a baby, his face in her hair. Listening to her breathe.